What a mess
by killgore444
Summary: Dudley's dilemma
1. Chapter 1

All of the usual notes; I own none of the characters, this is a work of fanfiction and in no way is attempting to infringe on or profit from any copyrights or ownership of either Harry Potter or NCIS. I own nothing related to this story.

**00011111000**

I don't know if they still do it or not, but a long time ago, the Military would send MPs (Army) and SP (Navy) out to popular hangouts for off duty military personnel, both to handle any incidents as well as to handle incidents in house. Always of mixed popularity with local law enforcement, these patrols where both blessed by some as an easement on local resources, and cursed as interfering with the legal process by others, and often accused, with varying degrees of accuracy (depending on political climate), of covering up crimes to protect the military. Ultimately, one of the biggest problems was what happened when said patrols encountered a crime being committed by civilians on civilians as in those circumstances, unless they were on a military base at the time, the military police have no jurisdiction. The military is in fact, bound by law that says they may not be used against civilians in the US.

However, for the purpose of this story, I'm going to just say that in DC at least, the practice continues. If nothing else, it is a Federal District, and the rules might be different. I'm not even sure how many of the later chapters will use this, maybe none, it might be a major factor, depends on how the story develops, so just go with it for now.

**00011111000**

I'm writing this story now, because every time I go to write another chapter of 'When Mercy meets Percy' I end up coming up blank. My muse is screaming Harry Potter, NCIS, Dexter and Battlestar Galactica. So, in an effort to get one of the stories percolating in the back of my head and interfering with writing my other story out so I can go back to my first story, I decided to write this out. And send me a smiley if that sentence made any sense whatsoever.

**00011111000**

By the way, this story takes place before Director David or Director Vance's wife is killed. Thought you should know.

**00011111000**

**What a Mess**

Gibbs woke with a start. He was in his basement working on a couple of chairs when he fell asleep as usual, it might very well have been a year since he last slept in his bed. It took him several moments to figure out what woke him up, but the ringing of his phone was incessant. Finally he located his phone; "This is Gibbs."

"Hey boss, got a messy one down in the club district." DiNozzo said from the other end. "Claire just called, her sister was just in a car wreck and she can't respond, she said she'd take the next two weekends from us if we can take this case for her."

Gibbs looked at his watch, 01:45 hours; "If you've got the address, call the others, you get to explain to them why their weekend is cancelled."

"Not a problem boss, Army MPs and local PD already have a suspect so it shouldn't be that big of a deal, but the Army CID agent who called it in to us told Claire that the suspect and most of the victims where British sailors, so we can expect people to be looking over our shoulders on this one!" With that, Tony quickly hung up the phone.

"TONY! God damn it!" Gibbs looked at his phone and just sighed. He decided to make sure that Ducky got called; he should still be awake at this hour.

11155555111

When Gibbs pulled up to the crime scene, he noted that the ME van was already there, flashing his badge to the PD, he drove inside the perimeter and got out of his car, Ziva David pulling in right behind him. "Good morning Ziva."

"Uhg. Why are we working this weekend? I thought it was Claire Bennett's team's turn."

"Family emergencies wait for no one Ziva, go help McGee with witness statements." He told her noting some activity off to the side, "I have a feeling based on their level of intoxication they'll respond better to a female than to McGee."

"That would explain why Tony is taking pictures then. And I have a feeling Gibbs that they will respond better to my accent than to me being a woman. They are all British sailors, not American."

As Ziva walked off, a man in a Army uniform walked up to him. "Morning Agent Gibbs, did she really just imply that all British sailors are gay?"

"I don't think that's what she intended, I'm pretty sure she meant that they'd think better of her clearly not being American, but… …yes, that's what she just said, she still has some difficulty with syntax. So Major Thompson, what's Army CID involvement here?" Gibbs asked as they both walked to the ally where the bodies could be found.

"Are you kidding? Besides it being a major international incident, and I do mean major, not really that much, a MP patrol was working with local PD patrolling the bars for soldiers and sailors on leave acting stupid, Army's turn this weekend. They were responding to a disturbance when a local drunk came running up to them claiming a sailor just killed a bunch of people. They called it in and responded, and sure enough, the drunk wasn't lying. They found a British sailor straddling a civilian and bashing his head open with a loose brick. Five dead British sailors and one dead civilian. The Brit claimed two civilians killed his friends, the other one having got away."

Turning the corner before he could respond, Gibbs looked over a bizarre crime scene. Ducky and Palmer where examining the bodies while Tony was taking pictures and gathering evidence. "Ducky?"

"Oh hello Jethro, so good of you to stop by." Ducky said standing up with a huff. "Just once I would like to go one week without the local sociopaths ruining my day. Or night as the case may be."

"Ya done Duck?" Gibbs said pointing at the bodies.

"As much as can be at this location. These four where stabbed repeatedly, from all appearances, by each other. That sailor I have no idea what caused him to die, and the civilian, well, it's pretty obvious what the likely cause of death was."

Looking down on the strangely dressed body; "I'm going go out on a limb here and say 'Blunt Force Trauma' to the head. So one of those injuries killed him?"

"Actually Agent Gibbs, he was already dead when those injuries occurred." Palmer said looking up, seeing the looks Gibbs and Dr. Mallard where giving him, he looked back down immediately.

"Yes, well, my assistants penchant for enthusiasm for people being murdered notwithstanding, he is correct. Those blows occurred postmortem, though in all likelihood, a similar blow is what killed him and the killer simply kept repeating the blow, looks like twenty to thirty times. But we won't know that, or if that's the actual cause of death until we get him back. I assume since all these sailors are British, that we can expect some complications from people who aren't qualified overseeing our investigation."

Major Thompson looked at them; "That fits the story of the MPs. They said that the Brit kept hitting the guy, even after they arrived with guns drawn and ready to shot. By the way, just got word, their Captain has been informed and is on route to your facility now. Shore Patrol showed up a bit ago, you want me to have them bring all the witnesses to NCIS headquarters, keep 'em at the local station, or release them to their ship or duty station? The only ones I know of that saw anything was the drunk and the 2 MPs, but that doesn't mean the rest don't know anything. There are however, over fifty British sailors here right now though, plus the ones on the ship who might've heard something, so you might want to think before collecting them all at your office."

Gibbs hesitated for a moment; "Have anyone who was actually with them brought to NCIS headquarters. I'll call General Kaimen and ask about getting an empty barracks building set up for the rest. We are NOT releasing them to their ship. Not after the last time we dealt with an investigation on one of Brittan's ships. Can't do anything about the sailors already aboard, other than ask for them to be turned over, but the ones ashore are being held. By the way, what happened to the perp?"

"Police custody right now, being treated for minor injuries by the paramedics. After that I assume you'll want the good Petty Officer Dorian Gray at the Naval Yard?"

"Dorian Gray?"

"I know, I almost feel sorry for the guy. It'd be like 'The Boy named Sue' for anyone who's actually read the books. Evidently he fights like 'Sue' too. I'll go let everyone know what you said to do and let you go deal with the politicians." With that, Major Thompson turned around and walked away.

Turning around to look at Tony; "So Tony, shouldn't be that big of a deal huh. Other than the dead bodies, anything noteworthy?"

"Besides the expected knives and the fact that this man is wearing a nightgown, not really. The cross-dressing civilian did have several strange objects on him," Tony said holding up a bag with several objects in it. "He was also holding a stick in what was quite literally a death grip like it was a weapon, maybe Abbey can get something off it?"

"When you get everything, help Ducky and Palmer with the bodies, I'm going to go collect Ziva and McGee and start the interview process, which thanks to your simply case, is going to take a while."

11155555111

Several hours later at the Navy Yard, Gibbs was looking thru a one-way mirror at a rather large man, mid-twenties, with sever bruising on his neck. Standing in at six feet six inches, or just a hair under two meters by British measurements (one point nine eight to be exact). He was also large in a muscular build sort of way too, and it was quite clear he was as every bit as strong has he looked when, in an effort to get more comfortable, he casually snapped the zip tie holding his wrists.

Other than that display, he'd actually been fairly calm. A little angry maybe, and obviously frustrated, but surprisingly calm. Gibbs looked at the other occupants of the observation room, besides the usual techs manning the recording equipment, Tony, Ziva and Tim where here as well, McGee sitting at a desk with a laptop, but also present was his boss, Director Vance, as well as two British officers. One, an attaché from the embassy, Lieutenant Aisent and Captain Eric Lockhart, Petty Officer Gray's commanding officer. "So, Captain, anything you care to share with us about him before I go in there?"

"Don't attempt to get in a boxing match with him. He's the ship champ, and has won several Fleet wide tourneys. Several people have tried to get him to go out for the Olympics, or professional, but he's always waved them off. Other than that, he normally works to blend in as much as his body allows. Combined with the utter and complete lack of any record of him before he turned seventeen, most of us assume he's either an agent of some sort, or he's been placed in hiding."

Captain Lockhart paused in thought for several seconds before continuing; "Don't mention his Father, that's something of a hot button issue with him. A couple of weeks before we deployed, he'd moved his mother onto base housing. Not normally allowed, but he got the base Chaplin to convince Admiral Hue to allow it since his father got out of prison and was making threats on his Mom. Several days later, Mr. Gray managed to talk his way onto base and physically assaulted his ex-wife. When Petty Officer Gray got there, security was dragging his dad out while medics where examining his mom. He quite casually walked over to his dad, and before security could stop him, he broke both of his father's legs, tossed the two guards aside and dragged his father to the ambulance and tossed him in telling him in the process, that quote 'If I ever see you again, I'll rip off one of your arms and use it as a club to beat you to death.' Needless to say, security detained him after that, but he received only a light reprimand and a little extra duty for a while owing to the circumstances and since Admiral Hue has a thing about people abusing women."

Gibbs looked at the Captain; "So you're saying he's got a temper!"

"Generally no, that was one of the few times anyone's seen him actually aggressively mad, I'd call it a hot button rather than a temper. I thought perhaps that he and his mom might have testified at his dad's trial, which they did, but on looking into it, his father's record starts at the exact same time so whatever they're hiding from, if indeed they're hiding, is something else."

"Let's see, he's been investigated a couple of times on suspicion of using steroids, but every time he's come up clean of anything illegal. Mostly we wave it off as sour grapes over losing a match to him, but there's been a time or two where he's displayed a level of strength which seems a little too much, even for him that have made me wonder. But like I said, he always comes up clean of illegal stuff. The doctors have noted unusually high levels of traces of poison, not the least of which is Wolves bane. Nothing that can give you any sort of high or enhancement, but enough where he should be having some health issues. When asked, he just say's his past may eventually catch up to him and someone may eventually get him."

"Other than that, I've only spoken with him a couple of times for anything other than normal command issues. He honestly doesn't cause that much trouble all things considered, and what trouble he does cause seems with his tendency to step in when someone tries to bully someone else. I once asked him if ever considered joining S.A.S.? He told me he didn't have what it took. He said he'd seen the face of true evil and faltered, and that he'd seen the true face of courage and heroism on someone else and he didn't think he'd ever be able to live up to that ideal. Yet more grist for the scuttlebutt from someone who has far too much."

Vance looks at Gibbs; "So Agent Gibbs, how do want us to handle this one?"

"We? You're not going in there director."

"And since when do you have the authority to stop me?"

"Director, think for a second about what will happen if he goes off. If you get injured, I'll have to take over as acting director again. I don't think either one of us wants that. So please, for the sake of the agency, stay in here."

"Ah, you make a good point Gibbs, I really don't want you in charge here again. You planning on going in there alone then?"

"I'll go in with him." Lieutenant Aisent spoke up; "I am his legal counsel after all."

"Of course you are. Come on"

When they entered the interrogation room, P.O. Gray immediately went to attention. Not liking him looming over him and finding him somewhat of a more hulking brute than he appeared sitting down, Gibbs immediately told him to take a seat. As he took a seat he looked at Gibbs and Aisent; "Before we begin sirs, my mates, did any of them survive?"

"I'm Lieutenant Aisent, I'll be your counsel. This is Special Agent Gibbs, an American from their Naval Criminal Investigative Service. We need to know what happened son."

"I already told the Bobby's at the site sir, my mates and me where leaving the bar and heading back to the ship when we heard whispering from the alley. Without even hesitating, Hassan and Sands just turned into the alley. Dietz tried to stop them but they brushed him off and just walked into the alley. We all walked in trying to talk sense into them but they were ignoring us all. Once we were fully in, suddenly everyone stopped talking and started pulling out knives, knives I didn't even know they had. Large knives too, not the type you could conceal without some serious effort, not to mention keep hidden from random inspections. I looked around starting to panic when I noticed this blonde lady standing there holding a stick and pointing it at us."

"Then suddenly, this scrawny guy appears out of the shadow and grabs me and lifts me up by the neck. He just lifts me up sir. I'm not braced against the wall, just dangling in midair. I'm a pretty fit guy sir, and I'll admit to being somewhat stronger than I look, but it'd be hard for me to do that to either of you, and I doubt I'd be able to do it to someone my own size. Hell, center of gravity alone should have made it impossible sir, and he wasn't anywhere near my size. But there I was, being held there in midair by Scarface while his girlfriend cackled in the background and my friends died. Scarface just stood there grinning, his fucked up teeth showing through his smile. When he started to talk, it took me a second to understand him. He was telling me that I was going to serve as a messenger back to England and the Ministry; that 'We' are still out here and 'We'll' retake what is ours."

"I tried hitting him several times, but punching him seemed to hurt my fist more than it hurt him sir. Flailing around some, I managed to reach a brick that was on top of a nearby dumpster and without thinking about it, I hit him with it. He was knocked silly a little, I notice the lady point something at me, so I grab the scarface and use him like a shield and charge her. There's a flash of green light and he gives a brief cry of pain and then we hit the wall, the lady nowhere in sight. I throw him to the ground and start hitting him with the brick."

"I'm so angry, I don't stop hitting him until there's a flash of light in my eyes. Thinking that the lady has returned, I glance up and see two military Bobbies pointing flashlights and guns at me. All I could think to do was just drop the brick and sit there like some addle-brained idiot. Did any of them survive sir?"

"No son, they didn't."

With that, Dorian Gray brings both fists down onto the steel table; "DAMN IT!"

The table jumps slightly from the blow, and Gibbs notices a dent were his fists hit. "I can see how you might be a boxing champ. And I will admit, you have one of the more… …unique stories I've ever heard, and I'll also admit that I'm not sure if you're telling the truth or not, something I'm usually really good at doing. But I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you're holding out on something. Care to fill in the missing pieces?"

"And have you yanks version of mom come after me for violating secrecy laws, I don't think so Mr. Gibbs."

"Agent Gibbs, Special Agent, and my mother died a long time ago." Gibbs says even as he notices Lieutenant Aisent give a startled jump at Gray's words.

"Special Agent uh. Well, at least you don't add a 'Very' to the beginning of that, than it really would sound like you ride the 'Short Bus' to work." Gibbs thinks he can almost hear McGee's and Ziva's bark of laughter when he notices Gray look at the dividing mirror and he realizes that he CAN hear their laughter.

Turning to give the people on the other side of the mirror a glare, Lieutenant Aisent cut's in; "When you say mom, you mean the M.o.M. right? What do the Mysterians have to do with all this?"

Realizing he missed something important in his words, Gibbs turns back around just as Gray gives a laugh; "Everything sir, and just like everything about them, it's all so classified and hidden as to be nearly ridicules. Hell sir, us just talking about it like this is probably some violation of law. You know what?" He say's cutting both Gibbs and Aisent off; "This is America right? I'm entitled to a phone call aren't I? Just lead me to a phone."

"You've got your legal counsel sitting right here Petty Officer Gray, why would you need to call someone else?"

Gray looks over at the Lieutenant and snorts; "No offence sir, but you don't exactly seem to be jumping up to defend me. I can't help but wonder if you've been sent more to get a quick resolution rather than defend me or even try and get the truth. If it's all the same sir, I think I'll try my luck with an old acquaintance."

Gibbs notices the Lieutenant start to get angry so cuts him off by tossing his cell phone onto the table. "Do you know the number?"

"It's been seven years since they gave it to me sir, but I should be able to get it right after a couple of tries."

"We'll be in the other room." With that, he motions Aisent out and leaves.

Walking back into the observation room; "McGee, that was my personal phone, you have my permission to trace and record." Then he quietly asks; "Opinions?"

Director Vance looks at him; "Besides agreeing with Captain Lockhart about not wanting to ever get in the ring with him, I agree with you, he's hiding something, though I'm not so sure if he's actually lying. The way he cut off for a second here and there makes me wonder if this has something to do with his past and the people after him."

"I was thinking something similar." Gibbs say's, then turning to the two British sailors he adds; "So, what's this mom thing? I assume it's one of your ministries yes?"

Captain Lockhart just shrugs in a 'I have no idea' way, but Lieutenant Aisent looks at everyone; "It is, but like Mr. Gray says, everything about them is so classified as to be beyond belief. And even without that, no one outside their organization knows anything about them. Hell, we don't even know what the initials actually stand for. We make jokes about the being so mysterious and call them the Ministry of Mystery or just Mysterians, but simply put, we have no idea who they are or what they do. The only thing we've ever been able to gather is they operate under the authority of the Queen and Prime Minister, answering to no one else. And that their operating authority includes, at least for the Royal Navy, the ability to override any orders, including from Admirals and to order damn near any mission, including acts of war on foreign soil. So yeah, a Petty Officer showing any sort of knowledge about them, assuming they are the ones he was talking about, caught my attention."

Before anyone could reply, Ziva cut in; "I've actually dealt with one before. Well, actually I met one before. My friend Khavakuk had to deal with him. When he first showed up and took command of a detachment of S.A.S. stationed in Israel, Khavakuk was ordered by Aba to be his license with Mossad. That first day, we made jokes about the way he acted and dressed, but when they got back from their mission a few days later, half of the S.A.S. where dead and no one joked about him anymore. None of them would ever even admit to having met him, not even the S.A.S. To a man, they all would look at you as if they had no idea what you were talking about when you mentioned him. To the day he died six years later, Khavakuk claimed he didn't know what I was talking about whenever I brought him up."

"He got through." McGee said referring to the phone call as he turned the speaker up a little on the computer.

The voice on the other end of the line sounded staticy; "Ministry of…"

"The lines being monitored!" Gray cut her off. "I'm on an unsecured line with someone definitely listening in on this side, if not monitoring the entire conversation."

A slight pause; "I see sir, and how may I help you today?"

"This is 'Dorian Gray', I was told several years ago that if I ever had trouble with a, what where they called, a Deatheater, to call this number." Hearing her snicker, he lashed out; "Listen, you people gave me that dumb ass name thinking no one would recognize it, you can at least have the decency to pretend to find it less amusing than everyone else in the world!" Meanwhile, McGee was looking up 'Deatheater."

"I'm sorry sir," she said with a definite increase in her snicker, "but I'm not sure if I believe you, the Deatheater threat has been dealt with. So whatever problems a muggle like you might be having, I'm sure have nothing to do with them."

"Oh, so it was just some random member of your little subculture who killed five of my mates before I killed him was it? Listen, can you put me in contact with Harry Potter? He's who I'm trying to get a hold of."

"Oh, so a muggle wants to get a hold of Harry Potter. What makes you think I'd put you through to him, I'm sure he's just dying to speak to you, I'll just call him up and have him drop everything to take a muggles phone call shall I?"

"Would you, that'd be nice if you could do that." Gray said, sarcasm dripping from his voice; "And as for why you should, the simple fact that a muggle like me knows who he is should be enough for any halfway intelligent person to know they should send the call up to the level above them."

"Why you li…" The voice on the other end suddenly cut off as everyone listening in stood with various looks of shock at the behavior of the secretary on the other end of the line.

"Thank you Malaria," a new voice said; "but I don't think phone service is quite working out for you. Why don't you go back to personnel and let them know you've been removed from yet another position? Thank you and GOOD BYE! Sorry about that sir, nepotism is unfortunately alive and well even in this day and age. This is Mss. Hermione Weasley, how may I help you?"

"There's a name I actually recognize." Gray says; "I need to too speak with Harry Potter."

"Well, despite his former, single day assistant's rather poor attitude, he IS a really busy man. Is there some particular reason you need him? Or will any old Aurora be of assistance?"

"Well. Let's see, a couple of hours ago, a couple of you people killed five of my mates and framed me for their murder before I was able to kill one of them and drive the other to flee. So, not knowing what an Aurora is, you tell me, can they be of assistance? If they can, I'll take what I can get. I called for Harry because I only know a couple of names of you lot, and he's the only one I figure would recognize me and maybe, just maybe, be convinced to help."

"I'm sorry sir, but if you don't know what an Aurora even is, how do you know Harry?"

"Because he's my cousin. My real name is Dudley."

After a moment of silence from the other end; "Dursley!" She asks coldly, voice dripping in distaste.

"You do recognize me! Isn't that swell!"


	2. Research

All of the usual notes; I own none of the characters, this is a work of fanfiction and in no way is attempting to infringe on or profit from any copyrights or ownership of either Harry Potter or NCIS. I own nothing related to this story.

**00011111000**

In this story, I talk about some British Orders of Knighthood. While VERY loosely based on real world British orders, it is for the most part made up. I did not intend for there to be any insult, and in fact the reason I went with made up over real world was to prevent any accidental insult by getting facts wrong. So, the only order I mention in this story that is real is the Order of the Garter.

How things work though, I tried to keep that within the guidelines from my source material, though those books are highly contradictable.

**00011111000**

No, Dudley isn't a werewolf. Could you imagine a cannon werewolf on a navy ship during a full moon? I was originally going to reveal what's going on there in the next chapter, but this one became much longer than I originally planned, so you'll just have to deal with the suspense a little longer.

Not that I think it's all that grand, you'll probably be kind of disappointed when you finally read it, but you never know.

**00011111000**

**Research**

It was about eleven in the morning and Gibbs was standing in the bullpen listening to the recording of Petty Officer 'Dorian Gray', now correctly ID'd as Dudley Dursley. Lieutenant Aisent had been given one of the spare desks and was trying to look something up. The British Consulate had asked that he remain part of the investigation, at least until Officer Potter of the British Ministry; Special Division, could arrive. It was interesting to note that the Secretary of State had received a call from the British less than an half hour after Petty Officer 'Gray' got off the phone with his cousin.

That denotes influence!

Turning his attention back to the recording he could hear Mss. Hermione Weasley transfer the call through to Mr. Potter (thou it actually sounded like she was passing a receiver from an old fashioned corded phone to someone; it clearly went from an office to his home). You could sort of make out what she was telling him, which amounted to an ID of the caller (his cousin) and that the line was being monitored by 'Muggles.'

When you finally hear Potter's voice, the first thing you get his him telling someone named 'Teddy' (in the tone of voice you use with a young child) to take 'James' and 'Sirius' to their mother. When he finally speaks directly into the line; "_Dudley? What's going on?_"

"_Hi Harry, I really need your help! I've gotten into something of a major jam, and I could really use someone being able to proof it wasn't me._" Dudley then gives Harry a brief rundown of events, though at times it seems like they're talking in some sort of code. The really useful part was when he got to the description of the man he said was attacking him and his friends; "_He was a middle-aged bloke with this weird scar running down his face, like an upside down Y, running down from his forehead down to the bridge of his nose and splitting off and going down each cheek past the corners of his mouth."_

_ "Could be either Corrows or Maliganet, the description of the girl doesn't help as they both hang out with females that match that look. You said his teeth were messed up, describe them."_

_ "Well, to be honest they looked like shark teeth."_

_ "Maliganet! Lesionen Maliganet and his daughter Festeren. Don't even ask about the names, personally I think the parents should have been arrested for giving the kids names like that. And the teeth, they really were shark teeth, he had them implanted. On the plus side, if I can confirm it was the prick, you're bloody rich. I'm not sure what the exact exchange rate is for gold, but after he killed Nickolas Flamel's wife, Flamel jumped the reward for his capture or death up to roughly thirty-two million euro. Another ten to twelve if it leads to the little bitch getting taken down. The banks already waved the normal brokerage fee due to the number of family members of theirs that they killed"_

After a long pause; _"Well, at least I'll be able to afford a good lawyer. If I can't get out of this, will you make sure my mates' families see some of that?"_

_ "For taking down this prick, I'd help your dad get some of that money if he did it."_

_ "I take it you know them personally."_

_ "I'm the one who gave him that scar. Oh, his daughter, she WAS his lover as well, you were correct about that one. A really fucked up family. Makes our childhood positively idealistic in comparison."_

_ "Damn, that is SO fucked up Harry. So, you'll be able to arrange someone to help me out then?"_

_ "Ok Dudley, I can be anywhere in London in fifteen minutes, where are you being held?"_

_ "Um, Harry, I'm in America. Their capitol to be specific, actually a Navy base right outside their capitol."_

_ "Well! That complicates things. I'll need to get permission from the Minister, maybe even the P.M. though that's unlikely. Or at least it would be if this wasn't going to be such a major news story. Then I'll need permission from the American DMRM, this could take a couple of hours. Let's say you should expect me in around four hours."_

_ "You can get all those permissions from not one, but two different government bureaucracies and still get across the Atlantic in under four hours? How? You know what, never mind, I really don't think I want to know."_

_ "See you in a couple of hours Dudley."_

_ "Hey Harry, could you tell my fiancée?"_

_ "You're engaged?!"_

_ "Surprising I know. You'll be even more surprised when you find out it was an old girlfriend of yours, Parvati Patell. She has a picture of the two of you at some school dance."_

_ "The Yule ball when we were fourteen, during the Tri-Cup tournament. How did you manage to land a girl on my side of the reality divide without killing you mum and dad?"_

_ "Mum already divorced my dad, please don't ask, that which was defending all of us from outside threats growing up was also defending us all from each other. As for mum, she was initially upset, but I think she's gotten over it. The only kicker is I've never told Parvati that I'm related to you. She knows Dorian Gray isn't my real name, I told her the government placed us in hiding, which IS true. I've just never told her I was the hated cousin of her former boyfriend. Sorry."_

_ "See you in a couple of hours Dudley."_

Hitting the pause button, Gibbs looked at his team and the Lieutenant; "McGee."

"OK boss, I've been unable to turn up ANYTHING on either M.o.M. or the DMRM. The only hint I've been able to get that the DMRM is even a real government agency is the Directors reaction when Mr. Potter first said it." And what a curious reaction that had been, almost the same as the lieutenant's was to hearing M.o.M. from the petty officer.

McGee continues; "Not being able to find anything about the agencies involved notwithstanding, I've found quite a bit of interesting material on the Maliganet's, the Corrow's and Deatheater's, though the files I've seen on the individuals are basically 'charges pending' files to individual Deatheater's. The Deatheater's were, according to the British government, and evidently still are, a highly dangerous terrorist organization. Their goal is to take over the British Isles, commit genocide on all those beneath them, calling them 'muggles' (where have we heard that term) and then wage war on the rest of Europe until they've attained their rightful place as rulers." Looking around at the faces of everyone Tim holds his hands up; "Don't look at me like that, just reading the files. The Maliganet's for instance are wanted on over thirty counts of murder, sixty counts of torture, twenty of them on children, mostly family members of people they wanted to kill or torture, numerous counts of kidnapping to kill, kidnapping to enslave, sex slave trafficking…"

"Sex slaves?!" Ziva cuts in.

"Evidently they'd occasionally kidnap someone, age and sex being somewhat irrelevant and torture them into becoming sex slaves until they tired of them and either killed them, believed to have been seven times, or sold them to other deatheaters, four times." Looking around at the others he continues; "Topping off the list of crimes is; attempted genocide, treason, attempting the overthrow of the government and conspiracy to commit all the above in separate cases involving different victims. Except the obvious treason and overthrow bits. They're also wanted on over one hundred counts of normal sexual misconduct, mostly in public places."

"Gee, any parking tickets to add to that?" Tony asks with a huff.

"No, they just kept it to the highlights for the public records. It's curious though, the files read as a 'wanted dead or alive' post, with more than a little emphasis on dead, but the files don't actually mention anything about a bounty. It's like they're saying; 'Yeah, we need to add the alive bit into it, but we're not really going to investigate any claims that lethal force was needed.' They're also trying to keep knowledge of them in certain circles, with just a little bit of information sneaking out into what are primarily private contractor circles. But even there they seem to be saying; 'If you see one of these guys and kill them, contact us and we'll let you know how much you've earned, but don't go actively looking for them.' They don't want this information out for general bounty hunters."

"It sounds like they are hiring assassins to take them out." Ziva says; "Or at least trying to keep to a specific subset of hunters. It also sounds somewhat like they're trumping up charges on them."

"They most likely don't want a bunch of rank amateurs going for a big payday and messing things up and killing a bunch of innocents. And Ziva, the reward is set to high for trumped up charges." Gibbs said.

"Big payday is right." Tony pipes up; "At thirty-two million a pop, I wouldn't mind a change in career, even if the payouts in euros instead of dollars, the exchange rate isn't that bad."

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs snaps.

"Boss? Yes boss. Ok, I've found twenty three possible people who match either Dudley Dursley or Harry Potter, but in combining the two searches I've narrowed it down to just one person each. Ages match as well." With that a couple of pictures of ten year olds appear on the big screen. "Meet Harry Potter and his cousin Dudley Dursley. Harry's parents were killed in an auto accident right after his first birthday, where he got the scar on his forehead, and he was sent to live with his maternal aunt Petunia Evens Dursley and her husband Vernon and son Dudley, the same age."

"Not much on his parents that I could find other than their names; James Potter and Lilly Evens Potter. Growing up with the Dursley's probably wasn't much fun for Harry; they were investigated several times on suspicion of child abuse and endangerment, but each time the case was either ignored or dropped. Lots of behavior issues from both of them in school until they turned eleven. After that they were sent to separate boarding schools. Dudley went to the same one his father did, and Harry seemed to disappear from all records for the school year only to have his records updated, after the fact. The schools name was Hogwarts, but virtually everything about it or even his classes was redacted in all the records I could find. I managed to get his grades, but not what the grades meant, nor could I get the class names to go with those grades, or the teacher names, all was redacted." Tony said with a laugh giving Gibbs a strange look. "Who redacts an eleven year olds school report?"

Tony continues; "Dudley meanwhile was sent to Smeltings Academy, were he quickly gained a reputation as a bully and a pig. Things continued like this for the both of them until the end of their third year when Smeltings told the Dursley's that Dudley needed to lose weight or he wouldn't be allowed back to school due to uniform sizes. During his fourth year, he seems to have taken that lesson to heart where he not only rapidly got in shape but discovered boxing. Unfortunately his behavior didn't improve until his fifth year. Up till then he'd been pretty much the class bully, but starting shortly after term started, school records indicate a marked improvement in his attitude and by the middle of the term he'd pretty much completely dropped his old friends and was cited for engaging them in several fights while defending other classmates from their bullying and in one incident that received special notation, jumped down a fifteen meter cliff to rescue a lower classman someone pushed off the edge. I wonder if that's the; 'Seen the true face of courage and heroism on someone else' thing Captain Lockhart mentioned?"

Gibbs looks at him; "Fifteen meters, that's close to fifty feet. How badly where the boys hurt?"

"Dursley received no injuries, none, that's why there's a special notation in his file. The other boy, McKenna, received numerous injuries and was hospitalized for over a month. Charges were filed on the other boys."

"In any case, shortly after Dudley turned seventeen, on Harry's seventeenth birthday in fact, both the Dursley's and Potter disappear for good. The 'Gray' family's records start several months earlier, but they don't really look valid until after that day, so I'm guessing that's when they changed identities, though it IS interesting to note that there is only one child in the Gray family, Harry is not present."

"Vernon Dursley, now known as Andrew Gray, is arrested about seven months later for assaulting his wife, and they're divorced shortly after he's sentenced to prison. After graduation from Arniem Academy for boys, Dorian Gray joins the British Navy. Harry doesn't make another appearance until shortly after his eighteenth birthday when he is registered in the British version of the DMV as having a license. The address listed on said license is either bogus or internet mapping programs need a serious update for his area, as they show nothing. Point of fact, his address is apparently something of a local attraction as NOT existing. The street numbers just skip right over his address."

Gibbs gives Tony a strange look, then looks at Ziva; "Sorry Gibbs," she says; "but I was unable to locate anything on either Nickolas Flamel or Hermione Weasley. Other than a driver's license, Hermione Weasley doesn't exist. If I had a maiden name I might be able to do better, but I just can't find anything. And like Mr. Potter, her address is not accurate. I can't even get that much on Flamel."

Before Gibbs can say anything Lieutenant Aisent interrupts them; "I might be able to help you with that Agent David." When everyone looks at him, he stands up and hands McGee a flash drive and grabs the remote for the screen from DiNozzo as McGee loads the drive. "I was trying to place were I knew these names from. Potter, Weasley, they sounded so damn familiar that I just couldn't shake the feeling that I should know them. And I finally figured it out."

"I thought you were looking stuff up on the victims." Gibbs told him.

"Right, um, sorry about that, but I've already got their files and in any case, it seems quite clear from the recording of the Petty Officer that this is about those two, not the rest of the victims." Gibbs just sighs and appearing on the big screen is several wedding photos. "OK, here are some pictures from the weddings of Sir Harry Potter baronet and his young bride, the Lady Genevieve Weasley as well as Sir Ronald Weasley and his bride, the Lady Hermione Granger baronet. Interesting all on its own, what's even more noteworthy is who is attending the wedding. Anyone recognize the people on the family side of Potter and Granger?"

Tony is the first to get it; "Is that the Queen?"

"That is correct. The little orphan boy has certainly come up in the world. Their list of titles and privileges are extensive. To get an idea of how important this is, you have to understand something about British Knighthood, but Sir Harry is listed on the British peerage sight as being a Knight Baronet of the Order of the Rose, and the Order of Bloody Thorns. The Order of the Rose is roughly the same has you yanks and your Medal of Honor, though there is a civilian side that honors similar noteworthy accomplishments in non-violent fields. Curing Gout for instance MIGHT get a knighthood, curing Aids MIGHT get you a Knight Baronet, curing Leukemia probably would. The Order of Bloody Thorns is a strictly combat and violence centered order. You don't have to be in the military, but you must be at a significant risk of life in the face of an enemy of the nation to get the knighthood. In the entire Gulf Conflict, there have been seventeen Soldiers and Sailors rewarded with knighthoods. Several years ago, just before these weddings in fact, fifty three people were given knighthoods in the Bloody Thorns. Of those, forty two, including Sir Harry were seventeen or under and several were much younger. Forty six of them were posthumous. Around double that number were knighted into the Roses."

"The other listed titles of Sir Harry include, in addition to being Knight Baronet in the Order of the Rose and Bloody Thorns, Knight of the Honorable Order of the Garter, Order of Merlin and the Order of the Phoenix, the last two are listed here, but I can't find any other information on them, being heavily redacted, something that is NOT normal for this sight. He is also listed as being the Lord Commander of both the Order of Dumbledore and the Order of the Wolf. That means that he's the highest ranking member and in charge of them. According to the HEAVILY redacted bio on him on the peerage site, early in his schooling at Hogwarts, Harry and friends stumbled onto a plot by the leader of the Deatheaters and managed to foil it. He is listed as being the one to kill one of his professors, who was an active participant of the Deatheaters."

"Think about this for a second people, at the age of eleven, Sir Harry Potter had already killed for the first time. His live does not seemed to have become more peaceful since."

"Over the next six years, with varying levels of adult support and or disruption, they managed to become quite the thorn in the side of the terrorist organization. At fifteen, they started a group named Dumbledore's Army, which would later be recognized by the Queen as an Order of Knighthood with peerage almost equal to the Garter. Later that same year, upon discovering that a member of the Order of the Phoenix had been captured by the Deatheaters, Harry would elude capture by a terrorist within the school staff and with the help of five other classmates, break into Ministry facilities, were he was being held, knowing full good and well it was a trap, and attempt a rescue. Everything about that attempt is redacted in the file, but it does note that none of the kids were killed and only two had significant injuries. It also notes that Harry would once again come into direct conflict with the leader of the Deatheaters, whose name is redacted and that they killed or severely crippled several deatheaters though they evidently failed to rescue the victim in time. Sirius Black was killed at this time. It's kind of interesting to note, that up until this point, Sirius Black was a wanted fugitive who was believed by the adults to have been a member of the Deatheaters and responsible for the deaths of Lily and James Potter. It would be their son Harry who would be able to prove that it wasn't Sirius, but another of their friends and that Sirius had wrongfully spent twelve years in prison before escaping."

"The next two years would see conditions within Great Brittan decline rapidly with the Deatheaters coming out, if not publicly, most definitely in FORCE. The next two years would see hundreds of murders and disappearances, including the murder of the entire village of Tienlesley." The Lieutenant pauses for a moment; "My Wife had a cousin in that village, we were told it was a tornado."

"How did we not hear about this?" Tony asks a somber group.

Tim responds; "I just looked up the years involved here, according to the news, England was being hammered by one natural disaster after another, but nothing about violence. There were however, eighteen tornados of significant size. Horrible enough, but especially bad for a country that sees maybe one minor one every two or three years. If the Lieutenant is right about them changing the reports, than England was going through some major internal fighting."

Ziva looks over at Lieutenant Aisent; "It sounds like you were fighting a civil war that your government didn't want revealed to anyone."

Lieutenant Aisent looks Ziva in the eye; "No agent David, these KIDS were fighting our civil war for us. And our government didn't even bother to tell the military. In any case, the peerage sight bio says that the group of kids went into hiding in an attempt to undermine a corrupt and heavily infiltrated M.o.M. How did they even KNOW about M.o.M.? No one knows about M.o.M."

"Their activities over the next two years are either redacted or not even listed, but it culminates in a final showdown at the school Hogwarts which would see the deaths of over a hundred students and most of the deatheaters. Shortly thereafter the Queen would recognize the Order of Dumbledore, and the Order of the Wolf, in honor of two professors who never wavered in their support of the kids and who suffered significantly at the hands of Deatheaters in order to assist and protect them."

"Other people who became knights during all this include; the Lady Hermione Granger, now Weasley, who bears almost the exact same titles as Harry, except she's not the Lord Commander. Sir Ronald Weasley, the Lady Genevieve Weasley, now Potter, Ron's younger sister, as well as their five older brothers, two of which were posthumous, their parents with their father, Sir Arthur Weasley being made, at the recommendation of Sir Harry, the Minister of blah. Love redactions don't you guys? The Lady Luna Lovegood and her now husband Sir Neville Longbottom who, according to his bio, was raised by his Grandmother after his parents were tortured into insanity by several early deatheaters when he was only one. The same time Harry's parents died in their 'car accident'. He is also listed has having suffered over thirty straight hours of torture himself, after the school was taken over by Deatheaters when he refused to denounce Harry or give up his hide out. During the final battle, when all the apparent leadership of the resistance had seemed to fall, he was able to rally the students back into the fight and also came into direct conflict with the deatheaters leader, and also was witnessed by over a dozen reliable people to have engaged the leaders pet giant anaconda, over twenty meters in length, armed only with an old fashioned sword. I don't think I would have done that."

Into the silent pause after those words, McGee would take over. "I'm going through this stuff on the sight Boss, you should read this. He's right; the redaction is so heavy I've seen Navy SEaL after action reports less redacted, but this stuff is incredible, and really goes to show just how much control the British government has over their media if this is the first we've ever heard of it. I mean seriously, according to this, the rather ironically named Professor Remus Lupin somehow managed to infiltrate a subset of deatheaters named Werewolves despite being known 'publicly' as an enemy of them. And Sir Dobby, no last name given, who, after less than five hours after Harry and Hermione had been captured by deatheaters, managed to infiltrate the household where they were being kept, he was a former servant there it says, and rescue them and several other hostages, even though it cost him his life. This stuff is really incredible here. I want to shake his hand and ask for an autograph when he gets here."

"I really hope you're not going to embarrass the agency McGee." A new voice says from just outside of the bullpen.

Turning around Gibbs looks at the speaker; "Director. Did you manage to get any information on the DMRM?"

"No Agent Gibbs, I didn't, and I damn near lost us the case by pressing the issue. We ARE going to be saddled with one of their agents though, as well as Officer Potter, so be prepared." Director Vance looks around at everyone and pauses for a moment; "About twenty years ago, I knew a pair of agents that worked with the DMRM on a case for about a week. I never heard a peep from either of them over the years about the case or the agent involved. Not really surprising in our line of work, but now I'm wondering what that case entailed."

"Well, who were they? If they we tell them about this case, maybe they'll help out."

"One of them was Special Agent Pride from the New Orleans office."

"King?! I know King, I'm sure I could convince him to help out on th…"

"The other agent was you Gibbs!"

"What?!"

"The other agent involved was you. All this time, I just assumed you were simply keeping a secret. It's not like you don't have hundreds of other classified secrets in your head. But now… …Now I have to wonder; do they actually have the ability to alter memories? Do you remember anything from that case Gibbs?"

Seeing the serious look on the Directors face, Gibbs truly concentrates, but; "No Director, I don't. I don't remember ever having even heard of the DMRM before."

"That's about what I thought." Turning to everyone else; "Gentlemen, Agent David, I want you all to back up every bit of data on this case, then triple back it up, then store it on external drives. McGee, I want you to write a special program to store a extra back up, and make it so it'll send us all reminders that it exists so if we 'forget' about the case, we'll get a reminder. And tell Dr. Mallard and Abbey as well!"


	3. (Lack of) Understanding

All of the usual notes; I own none of the characters, this is a work of fanfiction and in no way is attempting to infringe on or profit from any copyrights or ownership of either Harry Potter or NCIS. I own nothing related to this story.

**00011111000**

With all the good reviews I got, I'm hoping it doesn't go to my head to much. And I'm most defiantly hoping to continue to deliver a quality story. Speaking of that, the stuff in this chapter was originally going to be part of chapter two, but it became too long, so think of this as Chapter Two point Five.

Also, sorry about the long delay, but in addition to the things that block me writing my other stories, I decided have some people look over sections to try and improve my writing style. To anyone who knows what boards I hang out at here at FF, you might have gotten a preview of this chapter.

And a special thanks to 'cathrl' and doubly so to 'TheMaxx' who both helped with the editing of this chapter.

**00011111000**

All of the Muggle agents introduced in this chapter are canon to NCIS, although one isn't introduced until season eleven. All of the magical folks except Harry are OC. And also note, there is no canon description of what Harry looks like as an adult, so I don't think I'm breaking canon there.

**00011111000**

**Read This:** Sorry, but if you read no other part of my notes, this is important. In addition to continuing the trend of misunderstanding events from last chapter (and several things that SHOULD have been in the last chapter, this one contains some out and out lies. Call it misdirection or cover up, but this chapter reveals (to the reader) several lies told by the wizarding world.

**00011111000**

**(Lack of) Understanding**

"Talk to me Ducky." Gibbs said walking into autopsy, Lt. Aisent in tow.

"Oh good morning Jethro" Dr. Mallard said from his desk. "Lieutenant Aisent, would either of you fancy a cup of tea?" Looking around, Gibbs saw Palmer working on one of the British sailors. A slight retching sound from behind him indicated that Lt. Aisent wasn't used to autopsies. "No, well, as is usual, your timing is impeccable. Have you been to see Abbey yet?"

"Not yet, heading there next, something you want to tell me?"

"Ah, yes, yes indeed. It seems when Mr. Palmer last delivered some samples to her she attempted to acquire his aid in springing the good Petty Officer Gray from jail." Seeing Gibbs frown, he continued; "Normally I'd say she was joking, but from everything we're finding on this, this thing on my table, the more I consider seriously in aiding her Jethro. This person was a sick and twisted individual, made far worse by the inconsistencies surrounding all these deaths. Whatever we've stepped into here Jethro, it's going to have far reaching consequences, almost certainly international in nature given the identities of the victims. Tread very carefully; I fear this is just the beginning."

"Now then, Mr. Palmer and I have finished working on Mr. Lesionen Maliganet, Petty Officer Dietz and Seaman Hassan. After noticing some peculiar abnormalities, we immediately did a brain section on the rest. Tell me, have either of you ever known someone who had a stroke?"

Lt. Aisent nods; "My grand-mother. Afterwards she became very susceptible to word play and would believe nearly anything someone told her. Ultimately, I believe it's what got her killed. Why?"

"I'm sorry for your loss my dear boy," Ducky said; "however, that is exactly the type of example I was going to bring up. Although rare, sometimes, the victim of a stroke will become susceptible to various types of tricksters and hucksters, and more rarely still, vulnerable to obeying outright commands. It is the last part that is important here. Each of these four sailors showed evidence of having suffered from a stroke that left them obedient to outside commands. Each of the four suffered said stroke at around one hundred hours, consistent with Petty-Officer Gray's testimony. And in each case, had we delayed in doing the brain section, by even an hour, we would not have found a thing. Even now, all evidence of the stroke has faded, which, as you should know, is something that should not be possible in a necrotic state, or any state for that matter."

"Jethro," Ducky continued; "I believe these gentlemen where given an induced stroke with every intention of forcing them to obey, and then they were ordered to kill each other. Had we delayed the autopsies, I fear I would have come to the conclusion that they simply got mad at each other and started fighting."

"I'm sorry Doctor," Lt. Aisent cut in, a frown of disbelief clearly evident; "are you saying that someone used; Mind Control? And used it to order some sailors to kill one another?"

"Oh, my dear Lieutenant, it is so much worse than that." Ducky stated, then turning back to Gibbs; "Now, when you do a brain section, you cut the brain in a certain pattern. This pattern is designed to maximize the chance of noticing any abnormalities. However, when we were working on Petty Officer Dietz, Mr. Palmer Did something I'm sure you will be proud of Jethro."

Gibbs turned to look at Jimmy, but clearly addressing ducky, "Oh, and what's that?"

"He played a hunch Jethro!" Ducky said with a smirk.

"I just had a gut feeling that something wasn't right Agent Gibbs." Jimmy said smiling, at least until he caught a look on Gibbs face. "Not that that was really hard to notice with this case." Jimmy stammered out; "What I did was altered, slightly I might add, the pattern in which we cut the brain."

"He did good Jethro." Ducky said; "Now, this led to a most remarkable discovery, a discovery that we would likely have missed had we done it in the proper way. What we found was a series of lightning bolt shaped tumors running down each lobe of the brain and finally a single one in the brain stem." At that, Ducky showed them a series of pictures; "four pairs of tumors, plus the final one."

"Ducky, would it be possible to survive this?" Gibbs asked.

"If it was just a series of normal tumors Jethro, I'd say that it'd be impossible to survive their growth to even a fraction of their size. But these aren't normal tumors. Or I should say; they WEREN'T normal tumors. Like the evidence of the stroke, they've faded. It took roughly ten hours from the estimated time of death, but by eleven hundred hours, there was no evidence of this murder at all. Between that and the fact that there is normally SOME sort of delay in doing an autopsy, combined with the way we normally proceed with a brain section, we may be looking at a murder weapon nearly undetectable to science. That thing there, Maliganet, was killed in the same manner. Almost all the blows to his head were post-mortem. He also showed signs of the command style stroke, though in his case, I'd estimate it was fifteen to twenty years ago, though with the amount of damage done to his head and brain, I'm not entirely sure."

"So Dursley didn't kill him?"

"No Jethro, he didn't. I was just going over the evidence collected so far to work up a psych on him. Based on Gray's testimony, I'd say it was his daughter, when the Petty Officer used him as a shield. Oh, and Jethro, based on what I've seen and heard from him, I think he'd much prefer Gray than Dursley."

"If I may Doctor Mallard," Lt. Aisent said cutting in; "You said that he showed signs of the stroke as well right? How could you tell that it was fifteen or more years if it fades after ten hours?"

"I believe the side effects don't start to fade until the body is in a necrotic state. That does make me wonder about Petty Officer Gray's blood tests. If his unusual blood results are a side effect of whatever is going on with these people, why didn't it dissipate before the blood was analyzed? Surely the English Navy isn't any better about speedy results of routine blood tests than the US Navy." Ducky asked rhetorically.

Gibbs looks at Ducky; "So if he was being controlled, who was controlling him?!"

"Oh yes," Ducky begins; "at a guess, I'd say his daughter became the one who was dominate in their relationship at around twelve or thirteen. According to her wanted file, her mother was killed in a home invasion on her thirteenth birthday. I'd say that if she was able to induce these types of strokes, than that would be when I laid money on. Now, it may seem like it would make him seem more of a victim, however, there are enough other details that make me believe this was simply a change over in command rather than an alteration in belief." Ducky said with a grimace of disgust; "He may have not been the monster he became, but I believe quite strongly that he wanted to do so. Especially considering how quickly the evidence has dissipated, after twenty years, the effect would have had to be renewed on a fairly regular basis. It would have failed at least once in that time period, and he should have been able to learn to resist its reinstatement."

"If that's the case Ducky, why didn't she put an end to his sexual abuse?"

"Oh Jethro, you're assuming she wanted to, or even that it was occurring before that. She is every bit the monster he was Jethro, if not more so. If what I'm thinking is correct, she had him murder her mother to be the sole recipient of his 'affections.' He was a member of the Deatheaters before; she took it to the next level as Tim would say, all to become a monster; a monster feared by other monsters."

"I'm sorry," Lt. Aisent said, "but you're, well you're not really implying, but stating rather bluntly that this girl, at only thirteen years old, was able to forcefully induce a stroke in her father that caused him to murder his wife, her mother? And she had access to this weapon at twelve or thirteen, how?"

"I've no idea, and yes, I know my theory is shaky, but maybe she invented it herself…"

"She didn't!" Gibbs cut Ducky off; "We've got some evidence upstairs that says otherwise. Something like this was used at least once twenty-three years ago."

"Well than Jethro, it would appear that you know as much as I then in how this came about."

"Ok Ducky," Gibbs said rubbing his forehead because of a sudden headache, "anything else?"

"His teeth, Mr. Palmer if you would be so kind?"

"Here you go Doctor" Jimmy said sliding a tray table over to Ducky.

"These teeth are not just implanted into his mouth," Ducky said holding something up to the lighted magnifying glass; "they're actually growing out of his gums just like a sharks would. Whenever he loses one, a new one grows in. These are not implants, Abbey would know better than I, but I believe we're looking at genetic modification. The melding a human and animal traits."

"Kind of extreme just to avoid going to the dentist don't you think?" Gibbs asked in a deadpan voice.

Stifling a laugh Ducky replied; "Yes Jethro, a bit extreme. Also well beyond current science. At least science that's been made public. How much closer various secret government agencies are, I can NOT say. This actually brings me to the next enigma this man represents; Mr. Palmer, the pictures."

"Yes Doctor." With that, Jimmy walked over to the wall mounted light board and put a series of picture films up on display.

As the group walked over to get a better look, Ducky started to explain. "As you can see from these pictures, Mr. Maliganet had criss-crossing lines of some sort of deposited material covering his entire skeleton as well as running through his muscle mass. I've no idea what it did for sure, however M. Palmer noted that it looked like chain link fencing on the outside of the bones, and construction rebar combined with tension coils in the muscle mass. From there it doesn't take much to think of it as some sort of bone and muscle reinforcing system of some sort. Although I honestly cannot say if that is accurate, like the other evidence, it too has simply evaporated into thin air. But if accurate, he'd be at LEAST two or three times stronger than his fitness level would indicate."

"How much physical evidence were you able to preserve, how much was lost?" Gibbs asks pinching the bridge of his nose, the startled look on the Lieutenants face was a clear indication he made the same connection that Gibbs just did.

"Unfortunately, the only evidence that didn't dissipate is this man's teeth. How much of the chemical cocktail in his blood or the genetic samples we sent to Abby has remained I cannot say."

Gibbs looks down and sighed, after a brief pause; "Send me your findings Ducky."

"Jethro," Ducky said, exasperation and a touch of anger in his words; "Do you truly understand what this means? This case has so far; singlehandedly, overturned decades, if not a century of forensic science and understanding. How many cases have we alone investigated that had a suspicious death that was ruled natural causes. These weapons; they leave behind no evidence that we can find. Even if we can get to the bodies in time, I've got nothing in which to prosecute. Someone could be ordered to murder someone else, and unless they died and had a brain section done within ten hours…"

"Then you need to FIND something Ducky!" Gibbs cut Ducky off, temper starting to fray; "Go over everything again! Rip the bodies apart, down to a microscopic level if you have to, but FIND SOMETHING! Find something we can use to tell in the future, no weapon is perfect, no system unbeatable, just DO IT!"

"Jethro," Ducky said with a sigh after Gibbs started to walk towards the door; "there's something else…"

11188888111

"Abby!" Gibbs calls has he and Lt Aisent walk into her lab.

In the brief instant before she turns around, Gibbs realizes she is wearing pajamas. Black silk pajamas with skulls that have heart shaped eye sockets and separately, hearts with crossbones underneath them, scattered in a pattern. There is also two pictures on the back; the first, on one shoulder blade, is a picture of a female angel and demon, with the demon kneeling on the ground crying while the angel stands over her laughing and pointing at the hearts. The other picture, on the opposite bottom has the same angel on the ground rolling in laughter while the demon stands with a look of shock and horror etched on her face. The words 'Pirates of Love' crossed diagonally between the two pictures.

Gibbs is just taking note of the large pink bunny slippers she's wearing when Lt Aisent makes a gargling, started sound in his throat, but no words seem able to emerge.

Turning around, she suddenly squeals; "Gibbs! You're not supposed to be down here yet! We don't have anything for you yet!"

Taking note of the 'WE' in her statement, he turns to look at a very short woman, barely visible over the top of the metal table who is also wearing pink silk pajamas. "Carol," Gibbs says; "Why are you here? Is there some sort of contagion we need to worry about with this case?"

"Not really Special Agent Gibbs, I was at the Convent with Abby for the girls' school sleep-over we were helping the Nuns with when she got the call from Tony. I figured if I helped, it'd go quicker and we'd get back in a short while. What I'm finding however makes me wonder if we're going to be done by next weekend with no chance of getting back by Sunday morning. I AM finding a whole lot of things I want to call the CDC and MRC on though. I should warn you now Agent Gibbs, you might want to brush up on your diplomacy, I see a fair bit of scrutiny from scientists, doctors and lawyers with this case, assuming they do not outright dismiss us."

Gibbs just sighs and holds up a large plastic cup with purple writing on the side to Abby who looks at it for a second; "Decaffeinated? Gibbs, I can't drink decaffeinated CafPow, that's like a contradiction in terms. What'd I do to deserve punishment?"

"Abby, you tried to enlist Palmers help in busting our suspect out of jail! Now, what've you got?"

"A whole lot of nada Gibbs! Every time I start to think I'm going to get an answer, I end up with twenty more questions and I don't even get the answer. It's like this case is mocking me Gibbs, I can't even get Major Masbeck to work right, he keeps giving me weird results and making strange sounds whenever I stick the sicko's stick into him to analyze."

Carol lets out a bark of laughter and Lt Aisent, who still hasn't recovered from his initial shock makes another gargling noise while Gibbs just pinches the bridge of his nose again; "Abby, please never utter those words again. What sort of weird results does your mass spectrometer give you?"

With a grin, Abby replies; "The kind that would make me think someone's hacked into its system if it was connected to the internet. Instead of telling me what the stick is made of, besides wood of course, my baby asked me 'What's God.' Every time I've tried to run anything of the sicko's, he's given me a response that was some sort of philosophical question or other oddity. Now I'm all for equal right for A.I.s and such, but as much as I love my baby, he's not an A.I., and 'I would like a vacation' is NOT supposed to be on his response list."

Lt. Aisent is finally able to clear his throat, and mind, enough to ask; "What?"

Abby turns on him with a glare; "It means oh little annoying person who is in my lab uninvited that I'm unable to give you the chemical makeup of anything that belonged to fang-face the sicko, not even his dress, or more accurately, his robe, though I really hate to think about what his religion was." Turning back to Gibbs; "That was what caused my baby to ask for a vacation. Luckily, it was mostly just the objects in sicko's possession, and unfortunately, the knives. I really want to know how the knives where made Gibbs, I mean look at this." Abby says pointing at the corner of a steel table. What was once a normal, rounded corner has been cut off, with an incredibly smooth cut.

Abby picks up a knife off another table, walks over and proceeds to cut another half inch off the corner without effort or strain. "You see Gibbs,' she says; "no knife should be able to do that. Even if the knife was some sort of super sharp, super science comic book weapon and the table was cheap iron instead of stainless steel, physics says that what I just did would still be impossible. And to make it worse, all five knives are identical. Right down to the strokes of whoever last polished them and the little flecks of blood inside the handle wrap that wouldn't come clean. They're IDENTICAL! The only differences are the fingerprints and blood splatter from the British sailors, otherwise it's like someone threw them into a replicator right before the murders and made copies."

Holding the knife she used, with a thoughtful look, Gibbs asks; "You said there was flecks of blood on the knives previous to this attack?"

A sad look coming across her face, Abby replies; "Yeah, the blood belongs to eighty-three year old Agatha Henderson of Wiltshire England. She was brutally tortured and ritualistically killed about four years ago. Her right pinky was in one of the small cases on the sicko's belt. It was one of forty-eight; I'm running the others now."

Lt. Aisent looks at the evidence table and slowly, almost fearfully, picks up Maliganet's belt. On it is clearly visible a series of small cases, more like decorations than storage. He quickly drops it back down onto the table and turns to Abby; "Is there anything here that clearly indicates his involvement in the murder of those sailors? Even I can tell that him having a body part from a previous murder that is connected to the knives used is important, but does it CLEARLY indicate involvement?"

"Not CLEARLY, but it does definitely link. I'd love to be able to prove that he was the one who murdered those sailors, but the evidence just doesn't point that way." Abby replies; "Putting the knives aside for now, there is a whole bunch of weirdness with his blood work. And for that, I'm handing you off to Carol"

Carol looks at Abby somewhat sourly, but turns to Gibbs and Lt. Aisent and a flirty smile flows across her face as she edges over to Aisent; "So, you're being passed to me sweet stuff, how would you like me to catch you?"

"Carol!" Abby nearly shouts; a grin despite herself; "We already have one international incident, we do not need another."

The grin still on her face, but more subdued, Carol begins; "Ok, just to be clear, these guys should be dead."

"They are dead Carol." Gibbs responds.

"Only the one, I mean both Maliganet and Gray. Both of them have absurdly high levels of poison in their systems that should have killed them a LONG time ago. Take any thimble amount of their blood and drink it, I'd be highly surprised if any of us could make it out the door at a run before dying. I'm finding a whole bunch of things that just don't belong inside a living creature, from belladonna, better known as wolvesbane, to cyanide, to atropine on the low end of the lethality scale, all the way up to the venom of the Australian sea snake, the most deadly toxin on Earth."

Aisent turns and looks at Gibbs; "I never thought I'd ever hear of cyanide and belladonna mentioned as being low on any sort of deadliness scale."

"Yeah, well believe it cutie pie." Carol says; "Not only was it less deadly than some of the other stuff, there was a whole LOT of it in their systems. Maliganet had a blood contamination level of zero point two-one. Simple alcohol might have killed him at that level, but no, he's got those levels of the most deadly substances in nature flowing around in his blood. Gray is better off, his blood contamination is only around zero point zero-one-one and the most deadly substances aren't present, but he does have belladonna and atropine in amounts that should have killed him at much smaller doses."

After a brief pause, she continues; "That's in addition to a lot of other things in their blood that I can't identify, and I mean a LOT of things. Plus, we're having the same issues that Dr. Mallard and Jimmy are having, our evidence is simply dissipating in the wind, or the sealed airtight containers as the case may be. It's like self-destructing evidence is the norm for this case, and I'm really hoping it can be contained to just this case."

"What about the blood work of the other sailors, especially Petty Officer Dietz?" Aisent asks her.

"Well, the four Seamen all have some unusual hormonal imbalances, but nothing deadly or serious. I've sent a sample of it back to MY lab at the VA as well as samples to the MRC and CDC for further analysis. With Masbeck acting up, I'm just not trusting his results, but it looks like on just a very basic examination that they suffered a stroke in conformation to what Dr. Mallard concluded. Unlike the other evidence however, the hormones did not dissipate. In direct opposition in fact is that had the host not died, the normal biological process would have metabolized them."

"That was for the four Seamen." Carol continues; "Petty Officer Dietz however is somewhat different. His blood results show a massive bio-chemical reaction, likely the result of fighting off, or attempting to fight off a major infection. Of what I can't say for sure, but it looks kind of like it suddenly tried to fight off EVERYTHING! I mean everything from a stroke to cardiac arrest to cancer to the common cold. Every type of anti-body and defense mechanism his body had was trying to fight. I just wish we could tell if he managed to fight off the stroke, and that was the cause of his reaction, or if it was a result of the brain tumors, but in addition to everything else, Maliganet also had this reaction, but even that's not helpful as, according to Dr. Mallard, he had both the brain tumors and the stroke." Carol falls into silent thought after that.

Gibbs turns back to Abby; "What about the shark stuff? Any idea what that's about?"

"No!" She replies; "And I'd very much like to. His transformation into part shark is WAY beyond any science I've ever seen. Like Area Fifty-One beyond Gibbs. It's also a lot more than just his teeth, it's genetic, and has affects throughout his body. From softer, cartilage like bones and pressure resistant lungs to non-functioning gill structures and somewhat water resistant skin, the little sicko was adapted to life on the water. I am pretty sure though that he couldn't breathe water. He probably also had a sharks ability to regenerate somewhat from injuries beyond just what his teeth would do, but not like comic book level, more like a lizard or, well, a shark."

After another pause, and Gibbs expectant stare, she continues; "I also looked into those growths that Ducky and Jimmy found. Just like with them, all the physical evidence except the pictures has dissipated. I do believe however, this is just a belief, but I do believe that at least some of the chemical cocktail in their blood can be traced to those structures. I also concur with Jimmy's conclusion that they were some sort of reinforcement or strengthening process, a sort of bio-chemical bionic augmentation if you will. Though I'd but it closer to five or six times the strength of someone of equal fitness. Don't get in a fist fight with these guys Gibbs, or any sort of physical contact fight, unless they're complete incompetents, you'll lose, badly. It's actually kind of funny though, some of the things that adding shark DNA did to him directly weaken the benefits of this. Maybe the reinforcing was done to compensate for the drawbacks of sharking him out."

"Good work Abby." Gibbs says, holding up a normal CafPow cup to her; "Anything else?"

Abby squeals with delight, but puts the cup on her desk and turns Gibbs and Aisent to a different table. "Well the Personal-Affects of the British sailors have arrived. Nothing unusual I can find except the hand mirrors, I haven't tested anything yet though, you guys have both served aboard ships, what's up with these mirrors?"

Gibbs picks up the indicated hand mirror from the Dursley pile. The case is hand stitched leather with PP(heart)DG on one side and 'I Love You' on the other, looking for all the world like a smartphone case, but inside was a perfectly fitted mirror. Each of the sailors had one, nor was his the only one with an endearment on it. Gibbs just shrugs, but Aisent just laughs; "It's a ship specific superstition." He says; "It's in the file sent over by Captain Lockhart. Since they aren't allowed cell phones aboard, someone started a joke about using hand mirrors as cell phones to call their loved ones back home. And from there it just snowballed from an in joke until it became a very serious requirement that every sailor have one. It's claimed that anyone who doesn't have one, or worse yet breaks one, will fall over board with three days, with those who break one falling off the bow into the screw unless amends to the ship's spirit can be made."

"How does one go about making amends?" Abby asks him.

With a laugh Aisent says; "By buying one of the really overpriced ones from ships stores."

"Of course." Abby says with a huff. After about a second or two however, her face darkens and with a sad look she turns to Gibbs; "There's something else Gibbs, something horrible…"

11155555111

In the bullpen, Tony, Ziva and Tim are all working on their computers. Or at least Tony is pretending to work on it. In reality he is staring of into space. Seeing her coworkers frown and blank look, Ziva asks; "Tony, are you all right?"

Tim, glancing up from his desk responds instead of Tony; "He just upset that he made a stupid bet and has now lost."

Tony stands up and points at McGee; "The bet is not yet lost Timmy. His exact words were 'Around four hours.' Just because we are at the four hour mark does not mean I have lost the bet. I seem to recall we asked Ziva to oversee the bet. And for your information, I was busy trying to figure out what some of their other word choices meant. As clearly, they were speaking around subjects."

"Admit it Tony, you lost the bet?" Tim says as Tony sits back down; "I checked the airport, there are no flights landing from London that left after the phone call ended until much later in the day. Unless he commandeered a fighter jet from the Royal Air force, got permission from the US government to fly it here and managed to get mid-air refueling arranged, there is no way he could make it here by Noon. And even that would be pushing it if he left right as he was hanging up and then, only to the US, not here, and truthfully, I'm not even sure a super-sonic fighter jet could make it in four hours."

"That would depend entirely on what type of jet he uses." Ziva says as she stands up and walks over to their desks; "Tim, you forget that I am the one who decides if it is 'close enough' to count. What if I were to decide that simply getting to the states counted?" Seeing the look McGee gave her; "I did not say I would do that, but it is something to consider before you claim victory. However, I told you up front that I look at it like the start time of a movie. Just because the billboard says it starts at nine, does not mean that it does. If he arrives within a half hour of the time, I will consider it 'Around' four hours. Beyond that I will use my own judgment on if it is close enough and to what the delay is owed."

"Well Ziva" Tim begins; "I'd be worried if it was actually possible to get over the Atlantic Ocean in less than four hours. And in any case, you said to DC, not the states earlier when we made the bet, so I'm going to hold you to it. Washington currently has a two hour delay for circling planes in line for landing." He finishes with a smirk.

A new voice joins the conversation from the side; "I really hope that none of my agents are engaged in illegal gambling Agent McGee. How's your special project coming?"

"Director!" Tim says as Tony, Ziva and him stand up (or stand straight for Ziva). "I've already finished most of it, just finishing off some of the specifics and testing it to make sure it works before sending everyone a copy to use."

"That's good" Director Vance says; "I believe you're all familiar with most of our guests here." Everyone looks at the people standing behind the Director. Instantly they recognize Trent Kort from the CIA, Tobias Fornel from the FBI and Victor Sterling from Homeland Security. The Director points to a fourth man; "This is Special Agent Chad Flinderling of the NSA. These fine people have been sent by their respective agencies to 'Assist' us on this case."

Tony looks right at Kort; "What's he doing here?"

"Oh DiNosey," Kort says; "that's no way to begin this. None of us actually want to be here, but you guys have managed to find yourselves front and center in a very perplexing investigation."

Fornel looks at Kort before turning back to the group; "And he's not talking about your murders either. With one phone call, Director Vance managed to reveal that you guys had more information on the DMRM and M.o.M. than all our agencies combined. So we've been authorized to give full cooperation and assistance in exchange for copies of anything you turn up on them."

"For the record," Kort says; "The CIA is only interested in M.o.M. and has no official interest in any US agency."

"Oh silly me," Agent Flinderling says; "here I thought that I was sent to help with the investigation of a new terrorist organization."

"The Deatheaters are not a new organization." Ziva say's; "They are actually older than most of the others we track. And Victor, I did not know you have been made a field agent."

Agent Sterling looks around; "Well, my new boss decided that since I did such a wonderful job helping you guys expose my old boss as being an assassin and terrorist, that I deserved a 'Promotion.' This promotion could not be refused. Don't worry; I'll do my best to stay out of your way. I'm actually mostly here to make sure all the other agencies get copies of everything so you don't have twenty different agents mucking things up. Mostly I plan on grabbing a table in the break room and setting up shop. Although I was told I might need to act as a referee between you guys. I really hope not, my diplomacy isn't that good."

"Oh Victor," Fornel says; "You put up with Dianne for over a year being home every night, your diplomacy is better than anyone else's here."

"Don't remind him Tobias." Gibbs says as he and Lt. Aisent enter the bullpen. "He has to make sure Dianne gets a copy of the material at the IRS."

"You're not even divorced yet and you already have her messing with your work." Fornel says to Victor; "Just out of curiosity, what's the IRSs interest with a British terrorist group?"

Agent Sterling looks at Fornel; "The IRS has been tasked with trying to trace the money trail of groups like these. Evidently someone in government decided to use the fear generated by the IRS from Americans against our enemies. With agents like our ex-wife, I'm sure they'll succeed. All she has to do is marry one of them."

After that gets a laugh out of most of the people there, Trent Kort decides to get the conversation back on track; "Agent David, you said this was an old group, what makes you say that, this is the first I've, we've, ever heard of it."

"I've been going over the source that Lt. Aisent has been kind enough to give us, and the first mention of the Deatheaters is in the sixties. Under the Bio for one Professor Albus Dumbledore baronet" Ziva says; "Why do you put the title after the name? I thought it was before. In any case, According to his bio, he was one hundred eighteen years old when he was murdered. Although, like most of the stuff related to this case, his bio is heavily redacted, it does mention him having an encounter with the founder of the Deatheaters in the mid-seventies. Someone named Riddle, AKA, Voldemort, don't bother trying to look him up, I already tried, the only results I found led me back to this sight."

After a brief pause, Ziva resumes; "His and others bio's makes mention of his founding the Order of the Phoenix at that time and that there was a long drawn out conflict between the two groups for close to two decades until a one year old Harry Potter killed Voldemort." Ziva pauses to gage the reaction to that before continuing. "No one was ever sure how he managed to do it, but the theory put forth by Dumbledore goes that Potter, being a typical toddler was doing something most young children do at some point and that is playing with electric cords. When Voldemort found their safe house and killed his parents, the young toddler did something else that they are known for; he threw his toy at the man who was scaring him. In this case it was said electric power cord. And Voldemort, who according to this theory, was standing in a puddle of water from were a water pipe burst in his struggle with the boys' parents. After that, I believe the term is; sizzle."

"And so endith a terrorist mastermind." Kort says with a smile.

"Timmy!" Tony shouts as everyone else starts to laugh at what Ziva told them; "You've got to use that in one of your books! That is too funny!"

After the laughter dies down Ziva continues; "After that the Deatheater threat seems to have died down for about a decade before Harry once again killed the new Voldemort. That was the Professor he killed when he was eleven. And so everyone knows, Voldemort appears to be the title the Deatheaters use for their leader. Including when he was a toddler, Officer Potter has killed five Voldemorts, or killed the one five times, four of them before he turned eighteen and come into direct conflict with others on several occasions. It also mentions in the posting on the wanted sight that Maliganet was in contention to be the new Voldemort. That means his cousin got one to"

"Wrong Maliganet!" Gibbs cuts in; "According to Ducky and Abby, it's his daughter Festeren who was in charge."

"I will bear that in mind." Ziva says; "Also note that despite his age Dumbledore was murdered at the order of a Voldemort. Although he displayed an incredible dedication to defeating the Deatheaters when he arranged for his spy inside the terrorists to kill him, and thus have this Snape gain favor and easy access to the current Voldemort."

"Wait a minute," Fornel says; "Are you saying this Professor Dumbledore had himself murdered? Even at a hundred and eighteen, that's hard to imagine."

"It does say he was already dying and likely had only a month or two left to live anyway." Ziva says; "And it's not like these people have not shown a dedication to destroying the Deatheaters. While I would look for other alternatives first, I'd like to think that I have that dedication if it came down to it."

"Even still," Vance says; "Making arrangements for your own cold blooded murder just so your killer can gain a better position as a spy takes a level of fanaticism rarely seen. Even suicide bombers will know roughly how many of the enemy they'll get before they set their charges off. This Dumbledore had no idea if it'd work or if the then Voldemort would kill him as a potential rival."

"Something else we need to consider," Gibbs adds; "how likely is it that the Maliganets just came upon the cousin of their foe? From what I've gathered, Potter's been a major pain to their group; it stands to reason they'd like to draw him into a trap. It's even possible she was looking at being able to kill him as a way to bump her up from contender to acknowledged Voldemort. We might be playing into her hands by allowing Potter here."

"We don't really have a choice in that matter Gibbs." Vance tells him and seeing his frown; "Are you OK?"

"No!" Gibbs says, face turning dark; "Maliganet had the severed right pinkies from a number of different people on his belt that more than doubles the suspected murder rate on his wanted file. In addition, Ducky found, and Abby has confirmed, the bones and flesh of several other people inside his digestive track and stomach, including their pinkies so those are in addition to the others. Along with everything else, he's also a cannibal. And we can assume his daughter is as well, or she at least found it amusing. What's more, scratches on his face indicate defensive wounds, meaning at least some of the victims had been alive when it began."

"I think I'm beginning to understand why the British government isn't talking about them." Vance responds; "Just when you think you've seen the worst, they hit a new low."

"It also seems out of character to the rest of the Deatheaters." Tony says; "Think about it, until these two gained in prominence, most of them seemed like aristocrats or really rich, snobbish kids who killed for amusement. As sick as it was, to them at least it had class and style, they could pretend they were better than everyone else, that they deserved to be in charge. This mentally depraved crap looks like something either new or at least kept rare and hidden amongst the others. If they've gained a leadership role in the Deatheaters, we may be looking at a fundamental shift in how they operate, what their goals are and who is tempted to join."

"Well isn't that a pleasant thought." Fornel says as everyone in the group tries to assimilate the information Gibbs and DiNozzo provided.

"Come on you four," Vance says waving at the outsiders; "I've arranged for Conference Room Two as your office here."

Just has he's turning; Agent Ned Dorneget walks up with three more people in tow. Tony, along with everyone else is eying the new comers. The first is a young black man, early to mid-twenties. His first impression has him believing that he has never even been to a 'Hood' much less lived in one. He is wearing Adida shoes, a Chicago Bulls t-shirt, LA Laker jacket and a Miami Heat hat creating a fashion faux-pa that would get him killed in the wrong neighborhood of any of those cities.

The second person is a woman, late forties, early fifties with graying red hair. She's wearing what looks to be purple dyed combat boots, a long skirt of some sort with a tie-dyed t-shirt and carrying a leather jacket over her arm. Both arms have numerous scars covering them including what looks like burns all the way up her right forearm. Her neck has a scar running all the way across like someone tried to slit her throat, and her pink, heart shaped glasses does not quite manage to draw his attention away from a scar running slightly at an angle across her temple.

The third person is a man, also in his early to mid-twenties. He's wearing some sort of leather boots of a deep red, almost black color, blue jeans and a light red button up shirt. His leather trench coat is the same red color as his boots and looks like its seen more than a little rough handling. There are several marks and discolorations that look like it's been stuck by several bullets and knife or sword strikes. That combined with the odd way it hangs lets Tony and the rest of the group know it is clearly an armored coat. He's wearing a glove on his left hand only, so Tony is pretty sure he's damaged that hand, and he's got a scar bisecting his right eye which has an eye-patch covering it which is itself decorated with a very well stitched howling wolf head and super imposed letters of D A on it.

And with a slight shock Tony realizes that right in the middle of his forehead is the lightning bolt shaped scar of Harry Potter; "Four hours and twelve minutes! LUNCH IS ON MCGEE!"


	4. A Few Hours Ago

All of the usual notes; I own none of the characters, this is a work of fanfiction and in no way is attempting to infringe on or profit from any copyrights or ownership of either Harry Potter or NCIS. I own nothing related to this story, not even the OCs I invented for it.

**00011111000**

Sorry for the long delay, but it's been a rough several months. And I've had some major issues that I've had to deal with that turned me off writing for a while. Combined with continuing to help family with houses and hotshots at work, I've not got too much of anything regarding the internet or writing done. I actually went several weeks without even turning my computer on, much less writing.

The next chapter should be up within a week since I was holding on to this one until the next one was finished. It just needs looked at by some people helping me.

So anyway, sorry about the delay, I'd like to say it won't happen again, but honestly, I know better. Making it worse, I ended up deleting over two thousand words of description of the DMRM Building simply because I wrote them as a giant info-dump. Those who were assisting me pretty much stated that they simply skimmed through it and pretty much ignored it. Maybe in another story I'll describe it better. Also, the J. K. Rowling building's layout is based very loosely on the diagram of the Commerzbank Tower in Frankfurt Germany, except that it's outside is shorter in height, but wider in width and the outside walls are perfectly smooth and don't show where the gardens are located. And you can't see in from the outside.

**00011111000**

A HUGE HUGE thanks to Rhea Silverkeys for helping with chapters four and five. I literally would not have been able to complete them without her help. Go visit her forum, Writers Anonymous. Go to forums than general and ninety nine percent of the time it'll be the first one listed.

**00011111000**

**READ THIS:** _{written words}_ equal thoughts projected like words and should be considered the same as "Words written" in quotation marks, but just words only certain people can hear.

**00011111000**

**A Few Hours Ago**

"See you in a couple of hours Dudley." Harry said, watching Hermione's face in the flames for a reaction. Handing the phone back through the flames to her, he watched her face disappear from his fireplace so she could go hang the phone up. He could hear his son and godson in the kitchen talking to their mother, and he wasn't the least bit surprised when a couple of seconds later the flames in his fireplace turned blue and Hermione stepped out. He sat back in his chair and waited for her tirade to begin with a slight smile.

"Harry, just what in the hell are you thinking?" she began angrily; "You can't seriously be thinking of helping him can you? After the way they treated you growing up, how could you-"

"Hermione."

"-even begin to imagine that it's a good idea?"

"Hermione!" Harry again tried to interrupt a little louder.

"I mean it Harry, nothing good ever came from any of your interactions with your uncle or his-" Hermione's voice rising in volume in sync with Harry's.

"What's going on?" Ginny said as she walked into the room, probably to investigate the disturbance. "Oh, hey Hermione, when'd you arrive?"

"Let her finish her rant first." Harry said equal parts amused and exasperated.

"-family, so why would you put yourself through that again? And I'm not ranting Harry!" Hermione finished (letting them know she had actually noticed Ginny's arrival) then noticed Harry's face added; "This isn't funny Harry."

"No Hermione, _This_ isn't funny at all, but you _Are_ acting funny." Harry replied with a smirk. Then, turning serious; "What that phone call was was a plea for help from a blood relation, and a call to investigate the very real actions of some Death Eaters as well as a chance to possibly confirm the death of Lesionen Maliganet, and maybe even capture his daughter. Whatever else it is, that alone is important. Hell Hermione, with the relations between the Ministry and the French Wizards and Witches deteriorating so fast, thanks to the Deatheaters, being able to truthfully claim to have brought the inbreed scumbag down would be a big deal. So yes, I'm going, and yes, I know it was supposed to be my day off to spend with my family, but in a way, I actually will be. After all, Dudley is my cousin."

Before Hermione could continue, Ginny cut in; "What's going on Harry?"

Harry, replying before Hermione could, said, "My cousin Dudley just called the Ministry, evidently Lesionen Maliganet and his daughter Festeren killed some of his friends and shipmates and framed him for the murder, most likely trying, and succeeding in drawing me out. So now I'm off to America to find out what happened. Any idea where your Dad is right now?"

Before a slightly flabbergasted Ginny could reply, Hermione, clearly frustrated, but surprised by the question, answered; "Mr. Weasley is meeting with the Prime Minister as we speak, why?"

"Because," Harry began with a thoughtful look, "this is going to be making the Muggle news on both sides of the pond, so I'm going to have to get direct permission from the Minister of Magic. It will actually probably require notification of the PM as well, so it's actually a good thing he's there. Hermione, if you'd be so kind, please let them know I'm on my way. I'm going to go say good bye to the kids and Ginny, and grab my travel kit and be along shortly after."

In a humph, Hermione scowled and then walked to the fireplace and stepped through the flames back to the Ministry while Harry, with a slight frown, pulled Ginny into a loving hug.

**11155555111**

The Prime Ministers guest was sitting across from him reading the report that he'd given him. The PM liked this Minister of Magic. His first day as Prime Minister and he'd been introduced to the fact that there was a segment of the population that used magic and didn't even bother learning the rules of the rest of the population, much less abide by them. Fudge had been short in both height and manners, but had been mostly true to his word that they wouldn't be seeing much of each other, thankfully.

It'd been a couple of years after that when Fudge had again popped in for a visit and informed him that there was a dangerous wizard criminal lose and could he please help the wizards in locating the murderous Black. Remembering with a mental scowl how Fudge would return again a couple more times in the next few years to tell him things had basically gone to Hell in a hand-basket, with the final time Fudge informed him that there was finally a new Minister of Magic. Not that he used those words mind you.

The much more imposing Scrimgeour had then entered his office and proceeded to make his life worse. That had been the only time he had seen Scrimgeour, who'd been tortured to death by a group of wizards called Deatheaters. About six months later, he'd got a visit from interim Minister Shacklebolt. Shacklebolt only managed to keep the job for about a month before an unknown wizard showed up in the PM's office and claimed that he was taking over Britain and that he was now his slave. About six seconds of terrorist ranting later, a disheveled Shacklebolt and a red headed man named Arthur Weasley had appeared in the middle of the office and killed the terrorist wizard on the spot, he rather fondly remembered has he opened up his drink cabinet, even though the man died clawing his own face off and crushing is own throat.

It had been about a week after that when Arthur Weasley again showed up in his office, this time through the fireplace, and told him that thanks to his soon to be Son-in-Law publicly endorsing him, he was the new Minister of Magic. A job he'd managed to keep for about six years now. Shacklebolt had returned to his old job keeping the Prime Minister's office (and person) safe from magical attack, something neither of them were going to complain about. One of the first things Arthur had done, (the PM didn't call him by his last name anymore) he'd changed the relationship between the Ministry of Magic and the Muggle PM. Where-as before, Fudge and Scrimgeour just showed up and said, 'we exist, deal with it'. Arthur seemed to make an honest effort to get along. He still made it clear that the Wizarding world existed outside muggle law and authority; there was a reason for their separation after all, but that didn't mean they couldn't be civil and maybe even help one another, especially in areas that concerned both worlds (he still tended to think of him as 'The Other Minister').

And that had marked the beginning of a new era in magic/muggle relationship. Arthur had made arrangements for bi-monthly meetings between the two and had even managed to get it so that the portrait would send messages back to the magic side rather than just to him. The PM had even received invitations to the weddings of several prominent young wizards and witches, as had the Royal family.

As for Arthur himself, the PM couldn't quite figure him out; he was something of a strange duck. It was clear that for some time after their first meeting that he was suffering from major grief. Two of his sons had been killed by the Deatheaters, one in the battle of Hogwarts, the other by the man who had tried to take him, and his government as a slave. Based on Shacklebolt's reaction, the PM also gathered that as a result of his sons' death, Arthur had used some illegal magic on the terrorist instead of trying to bring him in alive, though Shacklebolt hadn't said anything about it to anyone, and he certainly wasn't going to.

Over the last couple of years however, Arthur seemed to come to grips with his grief, and slowly changed into a somewhat more dynamic person. He'd occasionally ask oddball questions and sometimes forgot that as a muggle, he had no idea of how magic worked and would need a more detailed explanation. He assumed this was Arthur's old personality resurfacing, but even now, there was a touch of melancholy to him that screamed of personal sacrifice for the greater good. Other than his two sons, twins he'd been told, the PM often wondered what else Arthur lost. Not that that wasn't a lot.

And so it was this day, Arthur silently reading a report about strange weather patterns of late while the PM poured him a glass of root beer (Arthur's preferred drink) and returned to the report Arthur had given him on, of all things, strange hybrids some witches had cooked up that had gotten lose (hopefully by accident) and that the M.o.M. was trying to round up. The PM had just sat back down with a nod of thanks from Arthur when the portrait made a coughing sound; "Harry Potter to see Minister of Magic and Prime Minister, urgent, requires immediate attention." It said.

This was a surprise to both of them, and was the first time anyone from the wizarding world had interrupted one of their meetings. He knew who Harry Potter was of course, no one who paid the least amount of attention to the magical world didn't, and he'd actually been to Harry's wedding. Just seconds later Harry appeared in the fireplace, his dark red robes and eye patch giving him an intimidating look that not even Scrimgeour had managed.

"Harry!?" Arthur began, "What's going on?"

"I need the official authorization of both of you to pursue a case to America, specifically Washington DC. My cousin is being framed for several murders and may have killed Maliganet."

Short and to the point, the PM thought to himself until he suddenly made the link, "The murdered sailors! Your cousin was part of that mess?"

"Based on what he told me, I'd say yes, that's the case he's involved in." Harry replied, "I need official authorization so I can pursue things with whatever muggle agencies might be involved."

The PM picked up his phone and quickly called his secretary, "Kathy, if Admiral Hue is still waiting, have him bring his report to the door and then contact the Secretary of State for the US, urgent."

A couple of seconds later, there was a knock at the door and Harry went to retrieve the files. As he was walking toward the door, the PM noticed that his robes changed into a long trench coat. Admiral Hue was clearly put out that he wasn't going to be allowed in, but Harry was intimidating enough, and Arthur was only partially visible sitting in his chair, and no one had come through the door while the Admiral was waiting so Hue probably just thought they were MI6 agents or something.

Harry began to read the files while the PM talked to the Secretary of State. When he hung up the phone, the PM looked at Harry and Arthur, "Well, you're part of the investigation, now how about you have a seat and explain what happened, the only thing I know so far is that some sailors were killed on leave."

And so Harry began.

**11155555111**

Harry stepped through the flames and then out one of the fireplaces into the J. K. Rowling Building, home of the Department of Magical Resource Management, or the DMRM, or just the Department. Unlike England, the Americans put it in an above ground building, and a tall one at that. At twelve stories on the outside, it wasn't a skyscraper by any stretch of the imagination, but it was clearly visible to muggles.

When it was built eight years ago, the Wizards and Witches of America made heavy use of 'Notice-Me-Not' and other anti-muggle charms. It also had a plethora of specialty spells and charms imbued into it thanks to the changing muggle technology (Harry still found the anti-camera and video version of the notice-me-not charm he learned his first trip here amusing as well as useful when dealing with magical paparazzi who still tried to follow him around, and the anti-listening device charm down right useful).

Like most magical places, it used space enlargement charms extensively. On the inside it was one hundred and twenty floors, exactly ten times the height (and width and thickness as well) and that wasn't counting the additional expansions individual offices might have done (although those had to be approved, structural balance and load capacity even with weight reduction charms still being a factor).

As soon has he finished his customs inspection on the ninety-eighth floor, where the international Floo network was set up from, Harry made his way to the hundred and fifteenth floor where the Bureau of Magical Criminal Apprehension was based. Specifically, he was going to the offices of the American version of Aurors, known locally as the Seraph, sometimes called the Magic Marshals. The offices of the Seraph was one of those offices that had received additional space enlargement charms. Even though it was contained entirely on floor one fifteen, inside it had at least seven floors (that's all Harry knew about, but it wasn't like he knew very many of their secrets). Harry got an escort as required by their rules and proceeded up to the fourth floor.

"Harry POTTER!" Harry turned to the voice of Senior Seraph Eda Malfoy, his local contact, with a smile on his face. She was a middle aged woman with greying red hair and rather obvious combat scars. She wore a sleeveless, tie-dyed robe, more of a dress really, that seemed to highlight the burn scars on her right arm and the scar on her neck where a muggle assassin managed to get the drop on her and slit her throat. Only blatant magic had kept her alive. The assassin had had her entrails forcibly expelled through her mouth and rectum, she did not survive, Eda did.

Eda had a strange history and was a second cousin to both Arthur Weasley and Lucius Malfoy. Her mother, a Weasley, had been married into the Malfoy family and had their name, but luckily for Eda, her mother grew tired of the politics of the family and fled to America while still pregnant. Giving birth to her in the immigration office while seeking asylum, unfortunately for her mother, her father had a charm on her that told him when she gave birth and her location. He had Apparated in and killed her then tried to take the baby but was killed in turn by the wizards of the Department. Not wishing to turn the baby over to his family for both ethical and legal reasons, she was automaticall citizen based on where she was born; Eda was then turned over to a young magical couple to be raised as theirs.

On his first trip here, she'd been assigned his liaison and he'd been surprised at her history. His second trip to America had been to help her lay legal claim to her father's share of the Malfoy family fortune. Even though Lucius had managed to get out of most of his legal problems, thanks to Harry being grateful for their help in the final battle, Harry did feel that they needed to be taken down some, so he helped Eda claim her rightful inheritance, which was about forty percent of the Malfoy family holdings and accounts.

"Good afternoon Eda, or is it still morning here?" Harry replied happily.

"Still morning, and to what do we owe the pleasure? Let me guess, you're here about the sailors murdered earlier aren't you? We told the Ministry we'd be looking into it." She said giving him a sour look.

"Sorry, but the surviving sailor called me personally for help. Seeing as he's my cousin, I wasn't about to turn him down." As he said that, Harry put the files the Prime Minister had given him, as well as the ones the M.o.M. had, down on her desk for her to look at.

Eda looked down at the files, turned to a young looking (actually about the same age as Harry) black man, "Probie, go get Auror Potter and myself some drinks, then get your muggle clothes on, we've got some reading to do, then we're headed to the NCIS headquarters, so try and blend in as much as possible."

When the Probationary Seraph, Jorell Osagie (last name Beninese, not Asian, Harry made that mistake last time he was here) returned with several bottles of something called Bark Beer (which tasted like a strange version of butterbeer), he also rather thoughtfully handed them the files the BMCA had on the NCIS team handling Dudley's case, he then left wordlessly to get changed. They discussed the case and the files for about an hour until Jorell returned wearing a nice, conservative three piece suit that would have blended in at a lawyer's office. Eda however took one look at him, "What are you wearing? Young black muggles do not dress like that."

Jorell looked down at what he was wearing with a confused look on his face, "What's wrong with this? I've seen people wear clothes like this; I even purchased it at a muggle shop. I even got something called a tie to go with it, but I can't figure out how to put it on and look the same."

Personally, Harry thought he did a better job of dressing like a muggle than he'd ever seen a wizard do except for Barty Crouch Senior. Eda however, didn't agree, "The reason you noticed them was because they stood out. Now go back downstairs and get proper clothes for muggle black men. You need to BLEND! Then meet us in the garage by the car."

With a sigh, Jorell turned and walked away, Harry, having noticed the grin on Eda's face asked, "There really wasn't anything wrong with his clothes was there? He looked fine for England, but I'm not an expert on muggle dress codes, even there, but I'm pretty sure he looked fine for here as well."

"Oh come on Harry," Eda began, impish grin spreading across her face, "what's the fun of having a probie if you never torment them? Now, how's your Legilimency and Occlumency coming?"

"Much better since I found a decent teacher, why?"

"Because there is a trick we Seraph use that allows us to talk amongst ourselves silently. You use Occlumency to put the thoughts you want to say forward and block the rest, and you use Legilimency to read the thoughts of others. Once you get the hang of it, you'll be able to show pictures and send emotions to the others that are doing it as well. Since you're going to want to be using Legilimency on the muggles anyway, this shouldn't be that big of a deal. Just remember, if we don't have Legilimency up, we won't hear your thoughts though."

They talked about stuff for several more minutes before heading down to the car. Despite the fact that Harry knew she was a good driver, he was dreading this part. The BMCA used cars that had been enchanted like Mr. Weasley's old car. And though he liked driving cars like that, he had difficulty when he was a passenger of people who drove like he did.

Hypocrite? Yeah, so what!?

When they got down to the car, Jorell was there, looking none too pleased with his clothes. Not knowing anything about muggle sports, as his uncle had never watched them, Harry couldn't even begin to tell who the teams were, but it didn't look too bad for casual night at a club. Going to a federal law enforcement agency as a fellow agent however, Harry thought he might have an issue, but what did he know of muggle fashions, nothing about American in any case.

It turned out that Harry didn't have to worry about the drive to NCIS; they were taking a carport port-key to a private garage right outside the navy yard. That was something Harry wanted for the Ministry, but in all reality, they didn't need. With the normal traffic for Washington DC, Harry could have driven from one side of England to the other in less time than he could have from the J.K. Rowling Building to the Navy Yard.

Once they portkeyed over, Eda pointed to her head and Harry, rather reluctantly switched to Legilimency. _{So, have you ever dealt with these people before? What should we expect?}_ Harry asked.

_{Like dealing with LEO's anywhere.} _Eda replied, _{They're going to try and take charge, so watch for that. The thing is, we need them to appear to be in charge since this case is public and in the muggle media, but they have to understand we're in control. Something that this particular agency has had some severe issues with in the past, so watch yourself. By the way, you have your muggle ID with you right?}_

Harry pulled out his wallet as his robes changed to his muggle clothes and showed her. _{According to the British Government, I'm a member of MI6. Is that acceptable?}_

_ {Sure,}_ she replied, _{but here, this is your special permit to carry weapons and act as a law enforcement officer. The United States does not recognize the right of foreign LEO's within our borders. The Secretary of State has, under Presidential authority granted you temporary authority under the DMRM, BMCA and the U S Marshals as a fully licensed agent. Your temporary authority is higher than NCIS's is, so you can retain any non-explosive weapon, even inside their facility. Something they are NOT going to like. So try not to flaunt it. You're not actually carrying any explosives are you? No grenades or anything like that?}_

Harry shook his head in response but readily agreed not to flaunt his new authority as they drove up to the check point, which they were waved through by a somewhat confused looking Marine after being befuddled by Eda. Once they parked and walked into the building, they got their first taste of how NCIS operates.

One of the black men stationed as a door guard quickly excused himself after looking at Jorell, and gales of laughter could be heard from him through the door. The other black man's thoughts were considerably less amused and it was clear he thought Jorell was insulting his fellow black men intentionally and would have been a major problem if an agent named Ned Dorneget hadn't been waiting for them. Jorell gave Eda a sour look, but said nothing and kept his thoughts behind his mental shields, although anger, hostility and embarrassment rolled from him.

Dorneget's thoughts however were easy to read and showed that he too was amused at Jorell's clothes, but had the underlying thought, _{I can get him properly dressed in the mornings}_, at least he wasn't racist, though if anything, Jorell probably would have preferred dealing with a bigot or the other black agent downstairs, as Ned's thoughts about Jorell were more than a little graphic. Ned was completely oblivious to both Eda and himself, except in a wary, are they going to go nuts and start killing people way. When they saw him checking out the size of Jorell's hands and feet, along with the accompanying thoughts, Jorell tripped on a step and blushed a beet red that showed clearly through his dark skin.

Dorneget suddenly realized that they caught him checking Jorell out, and rather embarrassedly led them the rest of the way to where the people of the MCRT were set up at. As they were walking up, Harry, like the other two, did a deeper scan of the people there. They were laughing at some joke or other, but it was clear that there was some tension. For one, there were more people than should have been present, from different agencies as well. The other people were here to investigate the DMRM and M.o.M. instead of the crime, and three of them had been married to the same woman and that was what the joke had been based on.

As Ned interrupted them to let them know they were there, the group of people turned to them and Harry was immediately hit with a barrage of questioning thoughts. The first thing that he REALLY noticed though was that one of them, Agent McGee had been tasked with secreting any data they found about the DMRM or M.o.M. away for safety. Thinking that was going to become an issue, he turned to Eda and was struck by her concentration on a middle aged man, one of the primary agents, named Gibbs. While Harry couldn't read Eda's deep thoughts, he had no problem getting into Gibb's, and they weren't that different about Eda from Ned's about Jorell. Unlike Jorell though, Eda seemed to be returning them, something their Director Vance noticed.

Before anything could be said however, Harry got an incredible jolt of joy and celebration from someone named DiNozzo as he recognized Harry; "Four hours and twelve minutes! LUNCH IS ON MCGEE!" The agent suddenly shouted, ending the awkward silence that had emerged.

It was also what caused Harry to suddenly realize how hungry he was, he'd missed supper, and lunch had been several hours before he got Dudley's call after all. Most embarrassingly, his growling stomach could be heard by everyone.


	5. Information Underload

All of the usual notes; I own none of the characters, this is a work of fanfiction and in no way is attempting to infringe on or profit from any copyrights or ownership of either Harry Potter or NCIS. I own nothing related to this story, not even the OCs I invented for it.

**00011111000**

Once again, major thanks to Rhea Silverkeys for doing such a wonderful job helping me edit the story. Thanks to her, I'm not only discovering just how little I know about my native language, but actually getting a lot of my grammar mistakes corrected.

**00011111000**

This chapter is coming out much quicker than normal for me. Do to the nature of my last chapter, I wanted to insure this one would be quick, so I finished it before posting the last, and was just waiting for final proofreading to be completed before posting.

**00011111000**

**Information Underload**

And with a slight shock Tony realizes that right in the middle of his forehead is the lightning bolt shaped scar of Harry Potter; "Four hours and twelve minutes! LUNCH IS ON MCGEE!"

Everyone turns towards him, various looks of surprise and annoyance on their faces, but before anyone can say anything, a gurgling-rumbling sound can be heard from Potter.

As everyone then turns towards Potter, he looks around and says, "What? It's been awhile since breakfast and I missed dinner!"

As almost everyone starts to chuckle (McGee being the main exception), Potter steps forward; "Well, you guys all seem to know me," he said, pointing at the monitor which still has their profiles up, "and my cousin, and I've already read most of your profiles, so I guess I'll introduce my associates; first is Senior Marshal Eda Malfoy." At the pause, the middle aged woman nods her head towards the group. "And this is Probationary Marshal Jorell Osagie." The young, queerly dressed black man nods his head tightly at them, clearly upset about something. Tony silently hopes it's not about any comments about the way he's dressed, because he deserves every bit of it if so, and Tony sure isn't going to go easy on him.

There must have been something of his thoughts on his face, because Osagie turned towards him with a scowl. Before either of them can comment, Potter continues, pointing at Fornel, Flinderling, and Sterling (pointedly leaving out Kort), "So, I've shown you mine, how about you show me yours?" As the Director introduces the other three men, Tony wonders why Kort didn't need introduction, and it's clear from his face, Trent Kort is wondering the same thing. When the Director finishes the introductions, Potter turns directly to McGee, "So, what's this about you buying the thirteen of us dinner?"

More laughter ensues as Timmy sputters but a comment from Gibbs brings McGee up short; "Seventeen, there's four more people working on it downstairs." Speaking directly to McGee now, "You'll need to call down and get Ducky and Palmer's as well as Abby and Carol's order as well." As he speaks, Tony wonders how the Boss man can keep such a straight face.

Before anyone else can say anything, Director Vance cuts in, "I was just about to show these gentlemen to the conference room we have set up for their office, will you three require anything additional?"

A shrug from the two Marshals, but Potter looks at the Director, "First I'll need a double sized burger with cheese and bacon plus a large root beer and barbecue chips. After someone goes to get that, I'll need to see the bodies and then talk to my cousin; privately."

"Very well," the Director says, "Agent Dorneget can show these four to conference room two, I need to speak with Malfoy about your orders from SecDef and the President. DiNozzo, escort Officer Potter down to the morgue. McGee get everyone's orders, I'll take a pork chop dinner with two sides of herb rice, and think before the next time you make a bet." With that, he waves Dorneget off with Fornel, Sterling, Flinderling, and Kort all while making a gesture for Malfoy to precede him.

Deciding to leave before McGee can say anything, DiNozzo turns to Officer Potter, "If you'll follow me, I'll take you down to Ducky and you can see why a visual identification will not be possible." And with a wave to McGee as the walk away, "I'll let Ducky know and collect their orders!"

11155555111

Tony walks into autopsy with Potter and Osagie (who decided he didn't want to be with Gibbs without either Malfoy or Potter present) in tow. "Good afternoon Ducky!" he called out as he walked in, "I've got some more visitors here who need to see the bodies."

Turning towards his voice, Ducky and Jimmy, who were working on one of the seamen look over the newcomers, and predictably, it's Jimmy who can't keep his mouth shut, "I'm sorry, but your outfit, may I ask wh-"

"It's none of your business!" Osagie snarls, jaw clenched.

"Ignore him" Potter says with an amused smirk, "His senior officer is giving him a lesson in why it's sometimes important to be able to say no to superiors. Which one is Maliganet? And I'll need some of his blood."

Motioning Jimmy to get the body from its cooler, Ducky, eyeing the three of them carefully, paying much more attention to Harry than either Tony or Jorell, walks them over towards a large cabinet. "Normally, we wouldn't have kept this all for this long, but due to the unusual chemical content, and the special circumstances surrounding their blood work, we'll need a special HazMat disposal unit to take it to a special holding facility."

"You keep eying me; do you have a problem with me Doctor?" Potter asks Ducky.

"Oh no, I'm sorry for more than a passing look at your scar, but Mr. Palmer and I have seen some fascinating brain tumors with the exact same shape on our resent victims. And I was just wondering if you were what Jethro meant when he said they had evidence that someone had survived the weapon that killed two of our victims." Ducky then launches into a retelling of His and Gibb's discussion from earlier, complete with photos and x-rays.

After Ducky gets done, Jimmy has pulled the body out and gotten the blood out of the cabinet. With a glance at Maliganet, Potter pulls out what looks like a small hand mirror out of his pocket, and rubs his finger down the face of it, "Hermione, you there?"

_"Yes Harry,"_ a female's voice comes out of it, verifying to Tony that it's a really thin cell phone, _"What took you so long?"_ Long!? Tony thinks to himself, it's only been four hours since he was notified of the crime, all joking at McGee's expense aside, how fast did this woman think it would take to get here from England?

"Well gee Hermione, between explaining things to Mr. Weasley and the Prime Minister, going through customs, meeting with the DMRM, then getting to this building and meeting the… …agents in charge of the investigation, then getting down to the morgue to examine the bodies, and let me think, I'm forgetting something here, oh yeah, your perpetual ranting about this case, how'd I ever forget that? Yes Hermione, these things all take time. Now, are you at your lab, visual identification is impossible, I'll need a blood analysis done." Saying the last while turning his phone towards Maliganet.

_"Fine!"_ The rather snappish voice replies_, "And Harry, eww! What happened to him?"_

Seeming to decide to let their argument go, Harry replies, "A brick to the face about thirty or forty times, and let's face it 'Mione, it's not that much worse than it was. I'm obviously going to need blood work, give me a visual representation of your findings." After he says that, he dips his finger into the container of blood and swipes it across his phone, completely ignoring the gasps of Ducky and Jimmy. He then sets his phone down on a tray and waits. Just as Tony is starting to think that Potter's not all there, he notices that the blood smear is gone and about that time what appears to be a hologram starts to form in the air above the phone.

_"Analysis does show that this is Maliganet."_ Hermione's voice says as a 3-D picture of a man forms above the phone, _"if you add in the scars you and Seamus gave him, it'd be a near perfect match. Full blood workup coming now, Ok, looks like there was a long lasting polyjuice effect mixing human and animal, that's why it didn't fade, like my accident with the cat when we were kids, it'll only go away with treatment, which he has either not received, or avoided, like we theorized."_ As she speaks, two new images appear, one of a man, much more normal looking, if not handsome, the other of some sort of shark. _"It's confirmed Harry, he mixed with the last of the Coppertail sharks that got taken from the Ministry run preservation tanks twenty years ago, so, in addition to all of his other crimes, he's also responsible for the extinction of a species. I've just completed my analysis of his blood, and I'm going on record as being one hundred percent certain this is Lesionen Maliganet. I'm also seeing all the expected stuff like muscle engorgement, strengthening solution, etc. But I'm also showing that he actually died of Avada Kedavra, not of the injuries to his head."_

"Makes sense," Osagie replied, "the testimony of Petty Officer Gray does state that at one point he used Mr. Maliganet as a shield from attacks by his daughter Festeren. It does seem reasonable that one of those attacks actually killed him. Since this is definitely Maliganet, is that going to affect the reward the Petty Officer will receive?"

With a snort, Potter replies, "Not likely, for some reason, as stupid as the two were, I can't imagine even Festeren being dumb enough to try and collect part of the reward. It is a somewhat amusing thought though. Hermione, I'm sending you a recording of Dr. Mallard's findings as he explained it to me, I'll send a full copy of all reports as soon as they become available. Any news on your end?"

_"Understood and received, I'll go over it as soon as we're done here. As far as news is concerned, nothing much, I talked to Dokkans, she said there hasn't been any new whispers about the Death Eaters doing anything, if anything, the whispers have gotten _quieter_, which makes sense if they've all gone to America, but you'd think there'd be something. Also, Parvati was already aware; your cousin was mirrored in with her and she overheard some of the discussions of the forensic people there. Ginny and Molly are with her now, as are her sister and mother. If you need any help over there, let me know, Ron and I can be over there in less than an hour."_

Tony, having caught the slight pause in speech of Harry editing his words, and the bit about the suspect's fiancée having overheard Abby and Carol speaking, and once again wondering exactly what type of jets these people used, made a mental note to speak to Gibbs and director Vance, but was still able to catch Potter's reply, "We've got too many people working on it now as it is, if I absolutely need help, I'll call for some more analysis, because I'm pretty sure that's what I'll need. Tell the Minister what I've got so far, and let him know that the investigation has been complicated by additional agencies getting involved. Right now there are nine active agents from six different… …American agencies, and an additional four or so from at least two groups involved in forensics, plus the director of NCIS, the primary agency, is taking a direct interest in the case. But at least he's breaking us up into smaller groups. I'll call if anything changes."

_"Talk to you later Harry. And Harry, I'm sorry about my attitude earlier, and tell your cousin thanks for killing Maliganet. Even if it was his daughter, Dudley was still the target of her attack and he moved the prick into the attack, so he still gets the credit. Ron asked me to ask you for check in calls every two hours."_

"I'll let Dudley know, and tell Ron that that isn't going to happen. Too much going on, but I'll check in whenever things change. Talk to you later." Putting his phone back into his pocket, Potter turned towards Tony, "Now, where can I talk to my cousin at?"

11155555111

Tony was sitting in the back room of Abby's lab with not only Abby, Gibbs, Ziva and McGee, but also the Director, Fornel and Kort. Lt. Aisent was with Sterling, Flinderling and Carol in the main lab trying to run 'Gray's' personal items, specifically the mirror. So far, all tests showed it was a mirror except the mass spectrometer which started to beep in the tune of 'The Blue Danube' and both Abby and Carol had sworn that they heard someone talking from it after Gibbs left, which was actually possible now that Tony thought about it, if it was in fact a well concealed phone, something Aisent was particularly angry with as that was a direct violation of the rules for the Petty Officer's ship.

Malfoy and Osagie were in the viewing room overlooking interrogation as Potter spoke to his cousin, whom no one had yet been able to decide on which name, Dursley or Gray, to call him. The meeting was to be private, but per policy, the camera would remain on. Which was what the group of them were down in Abby's lab watching, with Abby trying to lip read the two of them. Something she was not having much luck with.

"Sorry Gibbs, Director," Abby said again, "But what they're saying just isn't making any sense unless it's an incredibly complicated code. I mean really, Harry just asked Dorian how many Pegasi there is in pizza, and Dorian replied that the weather was quite red this night. He even said night twice in a row, like night night, what you'd say to a child going to bed. It's like there is two meanings to every word they say. I'll look over the recording later and give you an exact, word for word, but I really don't see it helping unless you can give me some sort of cipher."

"That's ok Ms. Sciuto," Director Vance began, "it was worth a shot, but I wasn't expecting much anyway. It's been clear from the beginning that these people are moving two steps ahead of us. And as much as I'd like to catch up, our primary purpose remains to catch the killer in this case. So to that, what has everyone got so far?"

"Not much Director," Gibbs began, "the only thing that's really changed is what Tony said about the conversation between Potter and his friend Hermione Weasley. If we believe her, then the only thing Dudley, or Dorian is guilty of is using someone who was attacking him as a shield against someone else who was attacking him. That and having a cell phone on his ship which despite having in the lab, we can't even confirm."

"I don't know Gibbs," Trent Kort began, "if we believe her, we know that they are working with genetic modification, both long and short term, have access to advanced and very fast aerial transportation and in all likelihood, fighter craft. And that it's very likely that these Death Eaters are as well, at least the genetic modification. Hopefully they don't have the fighters. Although, come to think of it, I'd rather they had the fighters and not the genetics. You can find a fighter base easier than a genetics lab."

Abby snorts at that, "It's not really that easy to hide a genetics lab. The type of equipment needed to do anything, much less what they did is heavily monitored by almost every single government on the planet. At least that is what I thought six hours ago, now, I'm not so sure. But these people are talking about modifications straight out of science fiction, the labs they'd need would have to be horrendously expensive. Like super-duper megacorporation type expensive. A secret government agency I can see, even a mega corporation, but not a terrorist group, even one as old as we now think these Death Eaters are. Unless they have a member who runs one, a mega corporation that is."

"For some reason Abby," Fornel said, "that doesn't make me feel better."

"Wait a minute," Tony interrupted, "she said like when we were kids. She was talking about the genetic modification and she said 'like my accident when we were kids' like they had the ability to modify themselves in school."

"Not surprising," Ziva said, "after all, Festeren had the ability to take mental control of her father when she was a child, and the weapon used to kill several people that leaves no evidence behind was first used, that we know of, when they were children. This of course implies that they had something to do with their invention. It is entirely possible the Hermione's parents invented the process of modification and that she was playing with something she wasn't supposed to. She did after all say accident."

Fornel looks at Ziva, "Are you saying that all of my nightmares about my daughter playing with my gun have just become obsolete? That her parents had to live through the nightmare of her accidently turning herself into part cat?"

"Think of the possibilities for making comic books come to life in the real world." Tony said.

"Tony," Abby said, "you do realize that if anyone actually tried to merge with a spider, that they'd more than likely suffocate from collapsed lungs right? And that's not even including all the other problems you'd get. Look up the YouTube video called 'anatomically correct spider-man, ninja turtles and several others. Hey, I wonder how much behavioral modification happened with their genetic change?"

"Something I think you all haven't noticed in that conversation;" Gibbs started, "when she mentioned merging with animals, she said it like there was a problem that exists that doesn't with their more common genetic modification, like they habitually change people's DNA. That as long as they don't try and add things from animals, they find it simple."

"You mean the thing about muscle engorgement and strengthening?" Kort asked, looking at Tony for confirmation he got it right.

"Actually, what she said was it was the reason the affect hadn't faded." Tony stated, "So either it's really easier to add animal traits, or at least keep them long term, or the not fading is a negative side effect compared to the non-animal modification. The bit about strength and muscle is accurate, and would explain some of what we've seen from them, although that again brings us back to genetic modification on children, or in Dudley's case, teenagers. And you know what; we're really going to need some terms for this stuff if we keep discussing it like this."

"Well I just noticed something to change the subject." McGee interjected, "I just noticed, look at this slowed down recording of them speaking. Watch the size enhancement of their mouths, notice how when they start to speak, their lips actually change shape slightly from when they're not talking. You'll also notice that when they turn their heads, their lips are a fraction of a second slower than their face. They're not talking in code, someone is overwriting the video feed and super imposing a different conversation then what they're actually having. Which considering this is a live, direct feed, is both impressive and disturbing."

"Well Gibbs, what do you recommend on this one?" Director Vance asked after giving McGee a long look that seemed to say 'How?'

"Honestly sir, all we got him for is mutilation of a corpse, a corpse of someone who just killed his friends and shipmates, and the cell phone thing, but not only does that not apply to us, but we can't even prove it. Considering he's a target for the terrorists, I say we move into protective custody. Maybe see if he would like to play bait in a trap of some sort. We've done that before, it might work again."

After a couple of seconds of thinking, Vance says, "I'll make some calls, let's see if-"

At that moment Ned Dorneget comes rushing into the room, "Director, Special Agent Gibbs, there's been another murder. Multiple British sailors were just found suspended underneath an eight story building's roof overhang. Police say they were tortured before they were killed and then glued there."

**00011111000**

This is a teaser to a future chapter. Might be next chapter, might be two chapters away. It'll depend on how my next chapter works itself out like.

11155555111

FBI Special Agent Ana Rodrigues was just leaving FBI headquarters; she was having a good day and was meeting her husband for a late lunch. As she was approaching the main desk of the building, she saw the receptionist having a 'Discussion' with a visitor.

Deciding to help out; for some reason visitors never seem to think that the receptionist is actually an agent and will happily follow the orders of someone who they think has more authority, Ana walked over to the man. "Excuse me, is there a problem here?" A quick glance showed her that she wasn't the only agent present and walking over.

With an amused expression on his face and a glance of his own at the other agents, the man, who was dressed in what appeared to be some sort of Priest robes replied; "I was just informing your secretary here that I have some information on an imminent terrorist threat from the group known as Death Eaters."

"Do you mean the group who just killed those British Sailors?" Ana asked also noticing the way the receptionist sat straighter at her words. Of course, the name was new and she'd only just overheard it about two or three hours ago. She wanted to make sure she heard it correctly.

"That is indeed the same one." He responded, a prickly British accent behind his words.

"And how would you know about their plans?" She asked, hand travelling down to her gun, unsnapping her holster.

"Because I am a Death Eater!" He said with a bright smile, "Oh, let me correct myself, WE are Death Eaters!" At that five other people just appeared out of thin air, like they'd been invisible.

Special Agent Ana Rodrigues was a very good agent; she managed to pull her gun and get two shots before she died.


End file.
